Hidden Sorrows
by Sunflour
Summary: You don't ever stop loving someone. It's more a matter of learning to deal with the pain of not having them anymore. Her story. A few HBP spoilers, please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, this is my first R/H fic, and I'm a little nervous about how it's going to turn out. It's not beta-ed, but it's just an idea that's been in my head for forever. So please read and review and tell me what you think. I'm hoping to continue, but I want to see what the readers think first. The rating is just in case.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by JK Rowling, only the plot is mine.

(… … … … …)

From the very beginning, I'd made mistakes. But he was one mistake I would gladly repeat. My first school year with him had rendered me a 'complete nightmare'. Then again, at the time, my days with Ron had always been difficult to get through. Ron Weasley was, and still is without a doubt, my first and only love. Unfortunately, he has a rather…different opinion on the matter.

Our friendship back at Hogwarts was one which was observed with the utmost scrutiny and confusion. One would simply have to start a sentence with, 'Ron and Hermione…' and people would at once assume that another one of our well-known arguments had taken place. People always assumed right.

I don't know how those debates ever got started, really. One minute I was berating him for his horrible homework habits, the next he was tossing insults at me as if I'd just offended his entire household, pets included. At that point in the argument, anybody walking by was fair game and was immediately hexed for interrupting.

Oddly enough, the only person who chose to associate himself with the two of us during these times was Harry. Harry James Potter is the only person I know who absolutely refuses to give up, whether it was based on a worldwide wizarding war against Voldemort, or even if it pended on a simple friendship.

His loyalty is one trait that I've always envied, to tell you the truth. No matter what he happened to be going through at the time, if ever I was upset about something, he would always be there to lend a listening ear. Even during our supposed seventh year, when we had decided not to attend in hopes of finding the remaining Horcruxes. Though Harry suffered emotionally with the loss of his mentor, Dumbledore, he was always there for me after Ron and I had had a spat.

Eventually, Ron and I finally discerned that our numerous arguments were taking a strenuous toll on Harry, as he hated the pressure of having to constantly choose sides. We both ultimately decided, after getting angry with each other just once more, that our bantering must stop, for Harry's sake.

This seemed to work wonders for Harry, as his spirits gradually lifted and he looked to once again be whole. The war continued to grow and rage, silently waiting for the climax, the point where Voldemort and Harry would meet for the very last time. Ron and I had been preparing him for hours at a time, trying to catch him off guard by randomly throwing spells while he wasn't paying attention.

The method appeared to be successful and when the time finally came, all of Voldemort's victims were finally avenged, and the world rejoiced. During all of this rejoicing, Harry, Ron and I each found love; Harry with Ginny, and I with Ron.

It looked like all would be well, and I admit that I was, for once, profoundly content with the situation. Ron and I slowly drifted closer in our relationship, and most people assumed that we would forever be together in love. People always assumed wrong.

Here was where I think their error rested. Most people, especially those who tended to assume things about our relationship, had not been through anything near what we had. The triumphs, joy, love and companionship, nor the dangers, grief, pain and loneliness; all these were emotions most people wouldn't even dream of experiencing within the time of scarcely a year. Yet we had, Harry, Ron and I.

For Harry, this was quite convenient, as it helped his relationship with Ginny increase and grow in love. Proof, you ask? Hardly three months after the war came to a close, the two became engaged. I remember waiting anxiously for Ron to ask me, hoping with all my heart that the question would come sometime soon.

Wrong. While our fighting had come to a halt over the long days of war, it had, in my opinion, only been patiently sifting in the backs of our minds, waiting for the opportune moment to return in full force.

And it did indeed return, armed and ready. Exactly two fortnights after Harry and Ginny's engagement, we had our first fight as a couple. I remember it being our four-month anniversary; Ron had promised we could celebrate. I had finally convinced my boss to let me off work early, after much groveling of course.

I arrived home early and immediately set to work on beautifying myself for Ron. It wasn't that I was overly concerned with my looks; I just wanted to look nice for the special occasion. My time was consumed with straightening the frizz out of my hair, and applying a bit of make-up to soften my appearance.

After getting ready and changing into a tight, v-neck, red dress, which Ginny had talked me into wearing, silly twit, I went about setting the atmosphere in the room. This suggestion came from one of my colleagues at the Daily Prophet, who said she's just read it in Witch Weekly under the romance section.

I cooked pasta, Ron's favorite, for dinner and got out a bottle of wine, secretly hoping that we wouldn't just be celebrating four months. I waited, sitting at the table, my nerves a complete mess. I remember looking at the clock of spoons Molly Weasley had installed in the flat Ron and I shared. I thought it was broken, as his spoon was still stuck on 'Work'. He was a Keeper for the Chudley Cannons and had practice at night, but never that late.

When he finally arrived home, I was half-asleep on the couch, but livid. We had a huge row, even going as far as bringing up things that had been annoying us during school. I called him something along the lines of a thick-headed prat who loved Quidditch more than me, and he in turn called me a bookworm who was more involved in Auror business than our relationship.

He ended up Apparating out and staying at Harry and Ginny's, at least that's what the clock said, blasted thing. From then on, I didn't trust it. I was left in the flat to wallow in self-pity, which then turned into anger, and finally into guilt.

He was right in saying that I was more involved in my work than our relationship. With as much anger I had used in my tone defending my job, you'd think it was the most important one in the world. Truthfully, with the war over and done with, there wasn't much work left for Aurors to do, so I was given a desk job which consisted of me editing papers for the Daily Prophet. Somehow, that measly, pencil-pusher job just didn't seem quite worth the fight I'd just had with Ron.

I remember I spent the night finishing off the untouched bottle of wine, angry at myself for being so thick. I woke up and realized I was three hours late for work. After taking a _strong_ hangover potion, I Apparated to the office. Upon reaching my desk, I was immediately yelled at by my boss for my tardiness. Completely frustrated with the situation, I hardly got any work done. Out of the twenty files I was supposed to have accomplished, I got a total of five completed.

When I got home, Ron was sitting at the dinner table with a sullen expression, dully picking at the left-over pasta. The room was filled with rubbish from the night before. I hadn't had the heart to pick any of it up earlier. Quietly, I made my way over to the table, and sat down next to him, intertwining our hands. We remained silent for a short period of time, before eventually meeting eyes.

"I'm sorry," he instantly blurted out. "You were right, I…" he trailed off, looking miserable. I felt the guilt in the pit of my stomach grow stronger.

I sighed and told him before he could continue that it wasn't me who was right, it was in fact him. I told him that he was right in telling me I was more involved in work than our relationship. I poured out all the thoughts that had been running through my head that day and the night before, and he took it all in, the concerned line in his forehead becoming more and more prominent with each sentence.

Finally, I told him how I thought it wasn't fair to him that I should be spending so much time at work. He looked momentarily confused, so I elaborated. Why should the both of us spend so much time apart, only to argue till our voices were hoarse when we did see each other?

I told him he deserved more than me, that he could easily find someone better than me. He closed him eyes, a pained expression appearing on his face as he realized what I was trying to tell him. My voice cracked as I finished. I told him that maybe we should take a break, continue with our careers and see where they would take us. If in a month we still dreadfully missed each other, we could try it again.

He let out long sigh, but opened his ocean-blue eyes and looked at me seriously. "If this is what you really want, Hermione, I'll do it. But only for you." He said with a note of regret in his voice. I remember being shocked that he hadn't even tried to argue back. Dumbfounded, I simply had nodded, before turning my head away, my eyes burning. I thought I was making the right decision. A short break would do our relationship some good.

Wrong. One month later found me burying myself in my work. I missed Ron terribly and hadn't seen him since that night in the flat. The day after we decided to have a break, he had packed his stuff while I was at the office and moved back to the Burrow. Both Harry and Ginny came often to visit me, but despite their attempts to comfort me, they were as baffled about the situation as Ron was.

Every night as I lay in my bed, I thought about how lonely it felt without his familiar presence lightly snoring beside me. I longed to cuddle with him, and remembered how he used to stoke my hair until I'd fallen asleep. My heart ached and I hated myself even more for breaking it off with him.

I remember once hearing that a best friend is someone who can see all the pain and hurt, even when you're fooling the world. I hoped Ron would see how much I regretted not being with him, enough that he would want to be with me again too.

I'd just sent an owl out to Ron asking if he would meet me on my lunch break so we could talk. I couldn't wait, and my heart was thumping wildly in anticipation of seeing him. How wrong I'd been to even suggest that blasted break! A few minutes later, I received the messy but all too familiar scrawl from Ron agreeing to meet me.

Sitting in the café, I sat waiting nervously and fiddled with my silverware every few seconds. As the bell above the door rang, signaling that a customer was entering, I snapped my head towards the entrance.

I felt a strange sensation fill my body as I watched the tall, red-headed man who'd stolen my heart look around the café briefly before spotting me motioning to him in the far corner. Finally, after a whole month apart, we could be together again… if he could ever forgive me, that is. Things were finally going to be fixed and I could stop delving deeper into my work to keep my mind off of him. We would get back together and be happy once more.

Wrong again. Giving me an easy-going smile, he sat down and looked at me. "How are you?" he asked me kindly. The answer on the tip of my tongue was that I was doing horribly without him, but manners drilled into me as a child took a hold of my voice, and I answered politely that I was fine. Formalities out of the way, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the small table standing in between us.

"I've got some news, Hermione." He began nervously. A little trepid with the situation, I nodded, encouraging him to continue. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he abided. "I'm seeing someone." He said quietly, looking down at the cloth on the table as if it were suddenly extremely interesting. I blanched.

What was going on? This was not how I had pictured our reunion at all. Distressed, I shook the images of us passionately snogging and asked him who it was and how long they'd been seeing each other. "It's Lavender Brown, you remember her," he said as I gritted my teeth and recalled the girl from school.

"Well, about two weeks after you and I…er…right, you know, I ran into her at Diagon Alley. So we started talking and…well we went the next evening. I guess you can say we've been dating since then." He continued going on about why she was so great for him, but I heard none of it. My vision hazed out and all I could think about was the pasta at my flat I'd cooked that morning, expecting Ron to be there later that night.

Somehow, I managed to cry out an excuse and made it back to the flat without so much as stumbling over my words, or shedding a tear once. The minute I closed the door, I leaned heavily against it and sank to the cold, wooden floor.

I tried my hardest to keep the tears from leaking out, but one slipped out anyways. As soon as the first one hit the floor, I could no longer hold them back. I pulled my knees up towards my chest and hugged them as if it was the last thing I would ever do. My head fell forward and my cries were muffled, though my body trembled with sobs.

What in the bloody hell had just happened? Within a span of about three minutes, I'd lost the one person I truly loved. No, I automatically corrected, loved isn't a word. There is no past tense for love. If you love someone, you will always love them, no matter what. So my question is; when did Ron Weasley stop loving me?

(… … … … …)

A/N: Good, bad, okay, needs work? First R/H fic so _please _review, I'd really like to hear your thoughts. I planned on having another chapter, but it all depends on whether this first one is any good.

Sunflour


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, so, obviously, this fic isn't going to be a one-shot…I don't think that would've worked out so well anyway. School's started back up, so expect an update every other weekend. On with chapter two…

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by J.K. Rowling and poems by George Bernard Shaw, only the plot is mine.

(… … … … …)

_-You never know true pain, until you've looked into the eyes of someone you love, and they look away- Author Unknown_

**Hidden Sorrows: Chapter Two**

The next morning, after spending the previous night crying until my eyes could shed no more tears, I rose early. Looking in the mirror, I thought of what Ron would see. Puffy, red eyes glared back at my reflection as I observed with much distaste my morning appearance.

Grieving definitely did not serve me justice, as my hair now seemed frizzier than before, and the dark, circles under my eyes ever more noticeable. Sighing, I wearily changed into my robes and, as it was mercifully a weekend, decided to trail about Hogsmeade.

Skipping breakfast, I slowly ambled through the quaint and strangely calm streets of Hogsmeade. It was mid-December and the enchanted candles floated serenely in the trees along side me. I had assumed more people would be about, tending to their Christmas shopping.

Well, it was much more peaceful with out all the holiday stress anyway. The weather would have been perfect, except for the fault of extremely cold temperatures. I hardly felt a drift though, even as the few others who hurried past me burrowed deeper into their winter coats.

I guess at that point, you could describe my emotions, though complex they were, all in one, simple word; numb. To put it more clearly, I was exactly what the word suggested, devoid of any sensation or feeling.

It's a curious sensation, the sort of pain that goes mercifully beyond our powers of feeling. When your heart is broken, nothing matters anymore.

Brushing off the familiar pang of loneliness I could feel coming on, I quickened my steps and walked into the first store I happened to come upon.

Ironically enough, it was the Quidditch store. Immediately, memories of myself spending the past Christmas' shopping there for Ron resurfaced, and I struggled to push them to the back of my mind. Desperate to clear my head, I browsed through the cheerful shop, pausing every now and then to glance at some new displays.

I spent a few more moments in the store, thinking forlornly of the biting cold outside, before finally venturing out onto the town's cobbled streets empty-handed. As I was stepping out, however, I collided into someone. We both fell to the firm ground, and I felt embarrassment seep through to my cheeks.

Flustered, I hastily picked myself up before offering a hand to the person whom I'd knocked over. It wasn't until she'd grasped my hand that I recognized her, and as soon as I saw her, I wanted to shove her back to the ground; Lavender Brown.

We stood, face to face, not saying a word. Distinctly, I noticed the wind had picked up. Not because I felt it, no, I was still numb, maybe even more so now. But because as it gained momentum, Lavender's long, brown hair blew around her fair face gracefully, while my own became pitifully tangled and flew into my eyes.

It was as if I'd suddenly had an epiphany. All at once, I could see clearly the reasons Ron had stopped loving me. The motive to finally end our relationship stood awkwardly in front of my very eyes, shuffling from foot to foot, though she still had yet to say anything.

She didn't even have any make-up on, yet she still looked quite pretty. I'd never allowed Ron to even look at me before dabbing on some mascara, because without it, I looked like death.

Suddenly, I wished I could use a time-turner and get ready properly this morning. I hadn't even remembered to charm my eyes to remove their puffiness.

Finally, she smiled politely and greeted me. "Hello, Hermione." I nodded in return, giving her a small grin, though not yet trusting myself to speak. She was understanding, and continued to bring up topics of discussion; how have I been since Hogwarts? How's work at the Ministry going?

Eventually, we both fell into easy conversation, and I'd almost forgotten that _she_ was the one Ron had chosen.

"Pardon me, but you look dreadfully tired, Hermione. Are you alright?" As she asked me this, I searched her eyes for a hint of recognition. Didn't she know that I was madly in love with the very man she was now seeing? Didn't she know that, at that moment, I hated myself even more for breaking it off with him?

Apparently not, as I only saw earnest concern.

'How am I supposed to hate her if she's nice?' I thought to myself before sighing and quickly listing off an excuse about some neighbors in the flat above me having a party the previous night. She smiled warmly and began telling me a similar story, consisting of her own loud neighbors who had a bachelor party.

"Lots of attractive blokes, sure, but finally, my patience thinned to the point where I simply walked upstairs, in my nightgown to make matters worse, and cursed the whole lot!" Lavender finished with a wild gesture.

I surprised myself by laughing loudly at her tale and upon realizing this, stopped short. She didn't seem to notice, however, but instead asked if I would like to join her for a drink at The Three Broomsticks. Happily, I agreed, and we began our trek to the pub.

I entered in through the door behind Lavender and smiled privately as I immersed myself in the comfortable atmosphere that only The Three Broomsticks could provide. Madame Rosmerta saw us and immediately gestured toward a booth in the back, as the rest of the tables were taken.

Lavender ordered three butterbeers, explaining that she was meeting someone there in a couple minutes. I nodded, thinking nothing of it, and led the way to the booth in the back. By the time we'd finished our drinks, we were both laughing boisterously as we continued to share more stories and jokes.

I wished I could sit there all day, just chatting with Lavender believe it or not, but upon noticing that she kept glancing at her watch, I relented and told her I had to get home to finish up some last minute files for work.

Promising her that we'd keep in touch by owl, I began walking towards the front door, only to quickly turn around and practically run to the bar. Ron had just walked in, and at the point, I knew confronting him, visually or verbally, would not be wise on my part.

Sitting on one of the barstools, I hastily waved Madame Rosmerta off and looked fleetingly in the mirror hanging over the menu on the wall. If I was careful not to draw attention to myself, I could watch them without being caught.

That wouldn't be eavesdropping because…I couldn't hear them…right?

And that wouldn't be spying because…okay, so I was spying on them, but based on curiosity purposes only.

Lavender was laughing at something Ron had just said, and I couldn't help but catch the sparkle in her eyes. No camera (wizard or muggle) could've captured the look of pure happiness on her face when he smiled at her.

My heart broke a little more inside.

Suddenly, Ron glanced up at the mirror and saw me. I froze momentarily as our eyes met; hues of his sparkling blue meshing with my own dull, brown. Unintentionally, I found myself searching his eyes for some kind of emotion. Before I even had the chance to get a proper look, though, he turned back toward Lavender, as if nothing had happened, and continued telling his joke.

The music in the pub played louder, and I felt the crucial desire to fade into the melodies of the song. Deciding that I could no longer stand that cheerful atmosphere, which contrasted so greatly to my current mood, I quickly dashed outside.

If only I had looked over my shoulder, then maybe I would've glimpsed Ron watching me leave with one sentiment flashing in his eyes; regret.

Once outside, I hurriedly Apparated to the first place I could think of; Harry and Ginny's flat.

xXxXx

When I arrived at Harry and Ginny's, I was surprised to find that my best friend was alone, and that his fiance was no where to be seen.

I asked him, in a choked voice, where she'd gone. Harry quickly explained that she'd gone home to the Burrow to visit her mum, before gently leading me to the familiar, and comfortable, black leather couch. He softly asked me what was wrong.

As if he didn't know.

Letting out a long sigh, I hesitated, attempting to gather my thoughts and emotions. Seeing that I was not yet ready to talk about it, he stood and walking into his kitchen. Seconds later, I heard the unmistakable sounds of tea being prepared, and I couldn't help but smile wryly at Harry's thoughtfulness.

He always preferred to make tea the muggle way, and I wholeheartedly agreed. It tasted better that way, we'd both argue to Ginny when she'd ask about it.

Though I knew the place by heart, I decided to look around anyway while I was waiting for Harry. Something seemed slightly amiss in this luxurious flat.

It was extremely large compared to Ron and… I mean _my_ flat. Whereas _mine_ was tiny and cluttered, no matter how many times I tried to organize it, theirs was incredibly roomy and neat. The design was very artistic.

The floors were a mahogany brown wood. While the walls had been painted with a color of deep charcoal, but had been charmed to sparkle with what looked to be fairy dust; Ginny's addition, no doubt. This gave the intended effect, however, which was to direct your attention from the color of the walls to the photographs placed sporadically about its surface.

There were no frames, giving the photos an elegant, yet simple look. They were black and white muggle shots, making them stand out beautifully. Each photo had sentimental value.

First, there was one of the whole Weasley family grouped together in their living room. They were all wearing the famous sweaters Molly knitted for them every Christmas and smiling widely.

Since it was in black in white, the individual colors of the actual sweaters were difficult to distinguish, but the letters (A, M, B, C, F, G, R, and again, G) appeared boldly.

The next few were of each child and their own families, beginning with Bill and Fleur and ending with Fred with Angelina and George with Katie, all in black and white.

Where there had once been a photo of Ron with his arms around my waist, there was now an old shot of Harry and Ginny, taken during Hogwarts when they'd dated. This one stood out profoundly as it was the only picture in the room that was moving.

Harry walked back in and guiltily noticed my gaze. Putting on a determined face, he carried the tea over to where I sat and quietly handed me a cup. Still not wanting to explain what happened, I instead asked him what happened to the picture I had loved so much.

"When Ron came over the night you two…er, decided to take a break," he started delicately. "He ended up staying with us for a week or so. Every time he saw the photo of you two, though, he became downcast or moody and ended up taking out his emotions on Ginny and I.

Naturally, I understood so I didn't really mind, but Ginny…well, you know her temper. She finally just took it down." He said this last part apologetically.

I was silent at first, then, a question came to my mind. How did Ron take it? I asked Harry this and furrowed my brow as he averted his eyes and mumbled quickly.

"He pretended not to notice, but…well, he _was_ much more cheerful. I'm sorry Hermione, I wouldn't have mentioned it if you hadn't asked." He was so sincere that I couldn't help but to instantly forgive him. "Enough about that," he said, and striving to change the subject, "what was it you were upset about?"

Though I felt guilty about weighing Harry down with my personal problems, I couldn't help but release all my pains, doubts, and worries.

He was the perfect listener. Offering me more tea as my voice shook, comforting me when I began to cry again, and then holding me quietly because I could say no more.

Eventually, I drifted off to sleep in Harry's protective arms, dreaming of soothing things. Sometime in the middle of the night, however, I distantly heard the familiar sound of someone Apparating into the flat.

Gently, I felt Harry lift my light form off his lap and rise to greet the person, whom I could only assume was Ginny, with a quick kiss and hushed explanations as to why I was there. Be that as it may, I was much too drained to even begin to try and comprehend what exactly they were whispering.

Shortly after, their voices faded away and I slipped off again into my dreamless slumber.

xXxXx

I awoke early the following morning feeling even worse than the previous day. The sun was just beginning to rise, I noticed as I glanced out of Harry and Ginny's voluminous windows. It was beautiful, and I found myself feeling strangely lulled by a sight I'd so often taken for granted.

Taking advantageous of my timely awakening, I stepped lightly and made my way to the nearest loo. Ginny and Harry were still asleep, so when I passed their closed door, I made an effort to be as silent as possible.

Allowing myself to smile as I heard Harry's snores, I gently closed the bathroom door and hurriedly fixed my appearance as best I could. Pulling my wand from within my cloak pocket, I muttered a couple spells to smooth my hair down, easing it from the frizz that seemed to have attached overnight.

After my hair looked moderately acceptable for the day ahead of me, I began applying my beloved mascara. The store I'd bought it from had installed it into the opposite end of my wand so I wouldn't have to constantly conjure the tube.

Very clever for their sales, if you ask me.

Giving one last shrug at my reflection, I then hurriedly, but quietly, went to Ginny's favorite room in the whole flat; the kitchen. She, like her mother, was quite the cook. That being the case, she chose to spend most of her free time at home either with Harry or in the kitchen…sometimes both if Harry was in a helpful mood around mealtimes.

Casting a silencing spell over the large kitchen, I began preparing Harry and Ginny breakfast. First, I made a pot of hot chocolate and another pot of tea, the muggle way of course. Next I started to cook up some eggs, kippers, and bacon.

Looking over the well-prepared meal I'd made with a hint of satisfaction, I hastily conjured a scrap piece of parchment and a quill to leave Ginny and Harry a note.

_Harry and Ginny,_

_Thanks so much for your kind hospitality. I do hope I didn't frighten _

_you last night, Gin, when you came home to find me on the couch._

_Harry, I can't thank you enough for helping me out when I needed _

_someone. I hope you enjoy the breakfast I made (though it's hardly as _

_good as anything you could make, Ginny) in return for a lovely_

_night's sleep!_

_Love,_

_Mione_

I read over the note twice more to check for misspellings or anything else I could add in. Nodding that it was appropriate enough, I left it on the black, marble counter beside the food, but not before remembering to place a heating charm on the breakfast.

Sighing, I quickly Apparated home, only to leave for the Ministry as soon as I'd picked up the files I still had yet to do. I hadn't lied to Lavender when I'd told her I had work to do. Grimly, I reached the Ministry and walked, with my arms full, to my small, wooden desk.

A little disappointed that my weekend was already over, I sat down lightly and immediately began working. If I was lucky, I could finish a couple before my boss arrived, as it was premature for anyone else to arrive quite yet.

There was also the unmistakable bonus that, as I labored through the endless amount of files, my misery was efficiently forgotten.

xXxXx

During my lunch break I'd received an unfamiliar, yet feminine, owl. It was from Lavender, asking if I'd like to join her for another quick cup of tea.

I don't know, quite honestly, what I'd been thinking when I promptly wrote back, immediately agreeing that we should meet. Wasn't this the girl I was supposed to hate with a passion? Yet here I was, befriending her and calmly drinking a cup of lemon tea she'd picked out for me before I'd arrived.

The worst part was, though, that no matter how many times I found myself comparing our differences, I was actually enjoying our time together. Besides Ginny and Harry, I didn't have many close friends.

Sure, I knew quite a few people at the Ministry, but there was nothing in those friendships that ever made it past the working hours. Lavender, however, was surprisingly a great conversationalist. There was yet to be an awkward moment in our harmless discussions.

That is, until we reached the innocent, at least in Lavender's opinion, topic of my relationship status, or lack thereof. I remained silent and chose to stuff a cookie in my mouth instead of answering directly.

Lavender noticed my hesitance. "I'm sorry," she muttered embarrassed. "I shouldn't have asked. I think Ron did mention that you'd recently split from a wonderful bloke. Funny, Ron never mentioned his name…right, but if you'd rather not discuss it…" She trailed off as my face paled.

Ron hadn't even told her that he was in fact the, 'wonderful bloke,' I'd broken it off with. Was he ashamed of me? My eyes burned, but I determinedly pushed back my tears. I plastered on a fake reminiscent smile and told her of the simply charming man I'd supposedly once dated.

After some more probing by Lavender, I finally lied and told her that he worked at the Ministry with me, him also being an Auror. I told her dreadfully romantic stories of the things we used to do, all the while, knowing in my mind that these were the plans Ron and I had once made together for our own future.

Eventually, I led off that things just hadn't worked out, but we were still friends.

"Well, I'd love to meet him!" Lavender said with a laugh. I thought about how deep I was digging myself into a hole at this moment before she said, "Think you could introduce us?"

Hastily trying to think of excuse, I near shouted that Ron probably wouldn't approve, causing her to jump slightly and look at me warily. Trying crucially to cover my over reaction with the situation, I quietly asked her why she was interested.

"I want to introduce him to Ron, of course!" She exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "He sounds terribly like a hopeless romantic, and Ron could use the tips." She finished with a teasing wink.

I laughed nervously. Now I'd done it.

xXxXx

A/N: "It's a curious sensation, the sort of pain that goes mercifully beyond our powers of feeling. When your heart is broken, nothing matters anymore." – George Bernard Shaw

Terribly sorry this took so long to get posted. I can honestly say that I'm working on both this fic, and my other story every spare minute I have. School's started back up, so most of my writing is done either at night or on the weekends. Updating during the week, like this, is a pretty rare thing, so sorry, but don't expect it often.

My next update will be for Forgotten, then after that, I'll come back to this story and post the next chapter…it'll keep going on like that until I finish the other fic. I hope this pattern is alright with everybody reading!

THANK YOU, to all my reviewers. It's the most I've ever had for one chapter alone, and I was ecstatic when I read the responses – not one flame! Needless to say, it was unexpected, but obviously, I'm very pleased about it.

**Sugarquill824**: I guess you'll just have to wait and see, or read in this case, what happens. Hopefully, that was incentive enough to get you to review for this chapter as well… I know what you mean though, I do hate those angsty endings, but for reasons I can't explain, I always end up reading them repeatedly. Glad you liked it!

**Jarcielle36**: I'm glad you understood the emotions I was trying to get out from Hermione's point of view. It's sometimes really difficult for readers to feel the same emotion the character is going through, or at least, comprehend it. Thanks for the review!

**.spitxfire.**: Aw, thanks so much for giving this fic a shot even though you don't usually read R/H ones. Also, I can't thank you enough for giving me the heads up about mentioning that this story is post-HBP. I don't think I would've caught that otherwise!

**Weasel Princess**: Hope you like this chapter as well! I tried to make it just as descriptive as the last one…how'd I do?

**kArlITaLUna**: Sorry if my updating was too slow, I did try to hurry though! I think it would be a different opinion for every person on the question of when Ron stopped loving her. For Hermione, it was when he ran into Lavender again. As more chapters are posted, more back round will be explained. Hopefully, you'll still be reading, but until then, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**Jade Summers**: What would I do without your acclaimed stamps of approval? Jeeze, I can't even answer my own question! Did the mouse snap(e, haha) at your heels this time? Wait, what was that? I think I heard a squeak!

**Magster**: I'm both sorry and happy that I made you cry. I'm sorry because I hate making people cry! Makes me feel bad! But if you cried because you thought the story was good…well then, I can't complain, can I?

**Wilty**: Who's your sister, I'd love to thank her as well! Thanks for reading my story, sooo glad you liked it enough to review. Does my newest chapter promise a new review:-D

**Chow**: Ahh! You added me to your favorites list! You have no idea how excited I was when I read that, I about jumped out of the computer chair! Haha, thanks for reading and reviewing, hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

**InsaneMonkeePirate**: Ron and Hermione's relationship in this fic is quite typical, I must say. Sometimes it's the familiar things that keep me reading, though…maybe for you too? Thanks for the review!

For all the new readers or people who haven't left a review, please just drop a note and tell me how my writing is. I'm trying really hard to improve, but I need some constructive criticism. Just let me know what you think!

Sunflour


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Well…this chapter seemed to take longer than expected to post. I'm not sure the whole pattern of posting a chapter on my other fic, then one here, then one there and so on and so forth will work out too much for the readers of Hidden Sorrows…the updates might be a bit slow as my other fic is difficult to pick up.

So this is my new plan. After I post this chapter, I'll work ardently on Forgotten, and if by the weekend the next chapter is still not finished, I'll begin writing another chapter for this story, that way I don't get behind and you'll still have this chapter to look forward to…sound good?

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by J.K. Rowling and quotes by George Henry Lewis, only the plot is mine.

xXxXx

_-_ _It was as if her heart finally told her that she was wasting her time- Author Unknown_

**Hidden Sorrows: Chapter Three**

A famous author once said that the only cure for grief is action. I took this quote to heart, memorizing it by repeating it to myself over and over until it was etched permanently into my mind, because action was exactly what I planned to take. I'd woken up this morning with an idea that, though at first it had seemed quite ludicrous, it now fit perfectly into my plan of getting over Ron.

I marched resolutely to the elevator shaft in the Ministry of Magic, shocking myself with the force I used to press the button that would take me to the floor where my boss' office resided. The doubts and thoughts of the consequences for the 'action' I was about to take were momentarily pushed aside as I ducked to avoid a dozen or so letters whizzing over my head.

Finally, the ding of the elevator shaft signaled my arrival to the floor. I was half satisfied that I'd made it this far, and half dreadful of the moment I would put my foot on the solid marbled floors that would undoubtedly lead me to his office. I went over my plan once more in my head as I begin trekking through the cluttered area, dodging assistants and other Ministry workers on the way.

I was going to ask him to promote me. I knew he would at first think I was being pompous, but then we would discuss my qualifications, and remember the numerous occasions when he had previously offered me a higher paying job. Though I understood that he would internally be questioning my sudden impulse to be promoted after months of turning such offers down, I also vaguely fathomed that my only reasons had been because of Ron.

Yes, Ron was in fact the reason I had been working at my pencil-pushing job at the Ministry for so long. It wasn't that he'd forced me to apply for such a low paying job, it was that he could already provide me with so much since he was a professional Keeper that there was simply no point in working a more strenuous job. We'd always had more than enough.

Things had changed, however, and I was constantly haunted with the worry that I wouldn't be able to pay my bills that month for the flat I now solely owned. I suppose this was the reason for my sudden urge to confront my boss, and I was hardly offended at his look of dismay when the topic of my appearance at his door came up.

My boss, Christopher Bowen, more commonly referred to as Chris, was young for his job. He, along with about six others, was in charge of all things edited at the Daily Prophet. Surprisingly, he'd only worked there for a time frame of three years, yet already he was considered to have excellent managing skills.

His appearance was one that literally every woman working for him could list off to you in a heartbeat. He had sandy blonde, shaggy hair and a lighter skin tone. His eyes were emerald green, and tended to always have a sparkle in them. He could be cheerful when he wanted to be, but also cold and determined when events called for such a demeanor.

Woman who described him would also hastily add that he was already married and had one child on the way, to the immense disappointment of many.

The events I pictured happened just as I'd imagined them with only a slight difference. I'd gone to his lavish office thinking that he would promote me as an extra editor for the Daily Prophet, mostly because of my previous job.

The manila folders I went through daily were filled with parchments littered with ideas, thoughts, and other items of inspirations scribbled on them. My job was to idly pick out what could be of good use for the paper, or what should be tossed.

Instead, he'd extended the opportunity that I could actually be a writer for the Daily Prophet. To say that I was astonished would be an understatement.

"Miss Granger," he began, taking a sip of the coffee I'd conjured earlier to help persuade him into promoting me. "Your qualifications, as you mentioned before, are quite remarkable. I'm simply floored that you've turned down my earlier repeated offers to advance you." Here he shook his head and my cheeks flushed somewhat.

I hastily began an explanation that, whereas before there had been no need for a better job, now I felt I should step up and attempt to increase my strengths by using my skills where they were best needed. He cut me off mid-sentence, however.

"There's no requirement to justify your actions to me, Miss Granger. I'm merely thrilled that you've decided to move up in this business. I only ask that you consider _writing_ instead of editing, as I predict we could anticipate impressive articles from you."

Needless to say, I was flattered, but still a bit hesitant. An image of Lavender and Ron abruptly flashed into my mind, reminding me of why I had come to my boss in the first place though. I nodded and offered him a smile that brandished more confidence than I truly felt. He laughed heartily, clapped me on the back and took my arm, immediately leading back to the elevator shafts.

"I expect you haven't yet collected your things?" He asked me airily, smiling every now and then at his fellow colleagues that passed us. Thinking quickly, I realized that there wasn't much to gather from my small, wooden desk except a few minor items.

"Right, well then Miss Granger, you sort through your things and meet me on the 14th floor." Walking with a slight bounce in his step, he stepped away from the elevators and returned to his office. I nodded once more to myself and made my way to my own office…though it was no longer mine now, was it?

xXxXx

Feeling a new sense of satisfaction coursing through my veins, I confidently walked passed my former co-workers and arrived quickly at my desk. There were only a couple of items resting on the top of my organized desk, and those were things that could easily be left behind. It was what was in the desk that I was worried about.

I opened the first drawer to find old files that I'd never finished and had hidden to keep my boss from finding. Digging through the pile, I was startled to feel my hand brush over something cold. Grasping it as best I could, I pulled it up from beneath the numerous parchments and folders and promptly felt my stop drop.

It was a photo of Ron and me during the celebrations of the ending of the war. Being a magical picture, I vaguely noticed the strangers rejoicing in the back round, yet I couldn't seem to take my eyes off the two of us in the middle.

The image replayed two more times before I finally comprehended when exactly the photo had been shot.

During the battle, Ron and I had been separated, the both of us fighting separate Death Eaters, in a final desperate attempt to keep them from stopping Harry as he once and for all killed Lord Voldemort. He'd been injured in the struggle, and I'd panicked when I couldn't find him afterwards.

Finally, after heatedly pushing and shoving my way through the cemetery we'd fought at, I saw him, his shock of red hair instantly giving away his position. He was sitting on top of a broken grave stone being ministered to by a Medi-Witch.

His wounds consisted of a broken arm, a severely bruised ribcage, and other minor scratches. Despite this, when he saw me, he leapt to his feet and ran for me.

All too eager to embrace him, I also ran forth. We met and he hurriedly enveloped me in a relieved hug, and then picked me up and passionately kissed me. I'd giggled against his lips but rapidly kissed him right back. This is when the photo had been taken.

I'm still not sure who took the picture, but nonetheless, it'd been owled to me a week later and I'd framed it, determined to keep it at my desk to remind me that I had someone worth working hard for.

Remembering all that disheartened me greatly, and I had to sit and take several deep breaths to keep from openly crying. At that point I wanted nothing more than to hate Ron as much as I hated myself. Thoughts blurred through my mind. If anyone asked, I would respond, 'Nothing, nothing is wrong.'

'I'm strong,' I told myself. 'Don't let this break me.'

xXxXx

I arrived on the 14th floor filled with excitement and anxiety. Tucking a strand of curly brown hair behind my ear, I waited for Chris. He came only a few moments later, apologized for being late, and swiftly began discussing my new job expectations, walking in front of me and talking over his shoulder.

I found it difficult to keep up while taking notes, and finally became frustrated with the situation and muttered a spell to make my quill record what he was saying.

"I've already spoken to your new boss, he's a friend of mine," he said with a bit of pride in his voice. I rolled my eyes. I'd never even met my new boss yet, and I at once decided that he must be of some importance for Chris to be boasting about a supposed friendship.

"I have to tell you this honestly though, Miss Granger. He seemed slightly uncertain about hiring you. I bragged on and on about you, but he didn't hear any of it. Finally, after taking a look at your recommendations you gathered for me, he agreed and told me to bring you to his office." He looked back at me to check for a reaction, but I didn't know how one was expected to respond to this sort of statement, so I simply smiled and shrugged.

He nodded in a satisfied way, and I was glad I hadn't blushed. "Right, here we are."

We stopped outside a polished door with a shinning, golden plaque in the middle. It read, _Draco Malfoy, Chief Editor of Staff_. My jaw dropped, but I hardly had time to think of a way to escape as Chris knocked on the door and left me to stand there alone as it opened. I heard a familiar voice drawl,

"Long time no see, Granger." Malfoy smirked at my expression, and I hurriedly snapped my mouth closed and stepped into his opulent office. The floor was a deep mahogany wood, while the walls were white marble.

There were few pictures adorning the walls, and the ones that were had simple items painted on them, giving the room a more elegant and refined atmosphere.

The furniture was all white leather, excluding the desk which seemed slightly peculiar, as it was twice the size of any normal desk, but exquisitely organized, even more so than my old one. There were floor to ceiling windows, but they were covered in transparent white curtains.

Malfoy cleared his throat, and I jerked away from my observations of the room and quickly went to take a seat in the chair in front of his desk. There was an awkward silence in which I felt immensely uncomfortable as my new boss scrutinized me. While he studied me, I, in turn, contemplated him.

His hair was still the same icy blonde, neatly trimmed, yet it was longer and hung in his silver eyes, no longer slicked back with gel as he had preferred it to be in their Hogwarts days. He had a demanding presence, one that exuded power and authority to all who looked upon the former Slytherin.

All who looked upon him, however, would have to literally look _up_ to him, since he had grown from being a scrawny boy, to a man that was nearly two heads taller than Ron, and that was saying something! I could even discern from underneath his costly suit that more than just a bit of muscle was there.

"I see time has done you no wonders since I last saw you," He began with a sneer. I narrowed my eyes but said nothing. His face changed to a thoughtful expression. "You've learned to hold your tongue, good."

"Alright, let's get started, shall we? You're new office will be on this floor, directly down the hall from here," He said, conjuring a piece of parchment and quickly writing down a few notes. "I'm placing you in the romance department with Patil, Parkinson, and Weasley."

I tried to object, exclaiming that love wasn't exactly my forte, and the article might not sound right if I wrote it. He paused in his writing and raised a single eyebrow before responding.

"Granger, I don't think you understand that you haven't gotten the job just yet. This week will be a sort of test of your abilities to write under pressure on topics you don't know much about." I gritted my teeth as he continued.

"If you don't think you're personality will come out in this theme of writing, then all I can say is, welcome to a world where being yourself if _never_ going to be good enough." He went back to making a few more notes, and I was silent, shocked by the cruelty in his statement. He stood and I followed his lead and walked behind him as he made his way to my new office.

We arrived and I felt a small amount of relief as I saw the back of Ginny's auburn head as she leant over her desk to finish writing what I could only assume was an article for that week. Looking around, I saw that the room was spacious enough for at least ten people to work comfortably in.

Malfoy noticed my stare and commented, "It was Padma and Ginevra who convinced me to charm the room to be so big. Said they couldn't possible work in such small quarters, since before all they had were cubicles. Ruddy nuisances, the both of them."

I was astonish to decipher a tone of affection from the otherwise stone-cold Malfoy, and quickly shook my head, thinking I had imagined it. Ginny turned at the sound of her name, her face lighting up as her eyes landed on me.

"Hermione!" She shrieked and ran towards me as Malfoy rolled his eyes and smirked. "You work here now? Merlin, why didn't you tell me earlier? That was a right lovely breakfast you made for Harry and me," She would've gone on further had Malfoy not interrupted her.

"Ginevra, this week is serving as a testing basis only. I need you, Pansy and Padma," He said, gesturing the other girls over. "To show Granger, here, how everything works." He then turned to me. "You're first piece is due Friday, that's four days from now. Can I count on you?"

I couldn't believe how fast all this was happening. Hardly ten minutes before, I had been a mere file checker. Now, I was a writer for the Romance Section in the Daily Prophet, working with Ginny Weasley, Padma Patil and Pansy Parkinson, and Draco Malfoy was my new boss. It was a lot to take in, but nonetheless, I offered him a weak smile and shook his extended hand.

He had a firm handshake, with calluses from hard labor. I would have to check with Ginny for more about him, because I was almost positive that I'd never seem him during the final battle. Malfoy pulled Padma aside as Ginny went back to her writing. Pansy approached me with a crooked smile, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"Congratulations on the promotion." She started cheerfully, standing in front of me and crossing her arms. I gave a small grin in response and asked her politely how she liked it.

"It's tough work, to be perfectly honest. Even if you have a world of confidence in one of your pieces, all it takes is one read over from the editors and just like that," she flicked her wand and a glass of water flew to her hand. "It's considered rubbish and tossed aside."

Malfoy left the room then and Padma, having heard the last sentence, joined the two girls as well.

"Yes, indeed." She said with a sly tone. "I'd like to introduce you to a job full of insecurity and paralyzing self-doubt."

"Or at least it will be for you this week," Pansy said with a smirk. She and Padma walked away laughing, as I was left to marvel at the newfound trouble I'd just created. I sighed almost despairingly, before conjuring the things I'd gathered from my old desk.

I jumped slightly as a new wooden table appeared in the far left corner, adjacent to Ginny's and diagonal from Pansy and Padma's. Determined to start on a positive note, I carried my things with me to the empty desk in the corner and began to arrange them around till they looked suitable enough.

The last item I placed was the photo of Ron and me. Though I was working at this job to help get over him, I just couldn't seem to let go of a picture that had such sentimental value to me. I glanced forlornly at the contentment and glowing delight on both of our faces before we went in for the kiss.

I caught myself focusing more on Ron than myself, wondering if I would ever get another chance, another day, just to be held securely in his strong, comforting arms. There had always been a strange sense of…safety when Ron held me close to him like he had done in the photo. I felt a tear slip out of the corner of my eye.

Hearing the light steps of Ginny as she walked over to my desk to begin explaining the daily routine of what went on in the 'Lover's Corner,' as Malfoy had coyly named their room, I hastily wiped at my face and muttered a spell to cover any smeared mascara, and shoved the frame into the last drawer of my desk.

I didn't manage it fast enough, though Ginny pretended not to notice, the only proof of her observations being that she had genuine concern glinting in her eyes.

xXxXx

"You told her you were seeing someone from the Ministry?" Harry asked aghast. Feeling the need to get a few of my numerous problems off my chest, I'd wanted to tell Harry and Ginny about the conversation I'd had with Lavender the previous day.

After hearing from his wife that I was working with her, Harry had flooed to my flat and invited me over for dinner. The three of us were enjoying a glass of wine over the meal Ginny had cooked when the topic of Ron came up again.

They'd been reluctant to discuss this topic, still afraid that I'd become upset. Hastily, I mentioned that I was trying to get over him, and then apologized swiftly to Ginny. She'd shaken her head and muttered a foul word about her brother and his new girlfriend. That was how Lavender came up.

Somehow, I eventually got them to understand that at the moment, I'd been distressed and said the first thing that came to my mind. It was a comfortable silence as we all pondered what could be done with the situation.

"I know," Ginny exclaimed excitedly. Harry picked up his wine glass to take a sip as Ginny further explained. "What about Draco?" I laughed loudly as Harry began to choke, but also because I thought Ginny was joking.

Was she serious? I asked her just that. She nodded earnestly.

"He's really not all that bad of a bloke, Mione. I really got to know him when I started writing for him about five months ago, but you'll see once you get to know him."

I cleared my throat uneasily and took a small bite of the bread lying beside me. Harry chuckled.

"Honestly, Hermione. Give the lad a chance. He's changed," Harry said unfeigned, though he stopped at my disbelieving look. "Alright, so he hasn't changed _completely_, no Malfoy can, but you'll feel better about him once you know where he was in the war-"

Ginny cut him off here, nudging him in the ribs muttering, "Another time, love." I gave them a sour smile but continued eating.

"Well, maybe not Draco, then," She said, unwilling to let the subject drop. I shook my head fervently and picked up the bottle of wine and refilled Harry's glass. He smiled gratefully as he picked it up to sip.

"What about one of his friends? I hear Blaise Zambini's single," she said with a wink, just as Harry promptly spewed out his wine, drops of it landing not only on the pristine, white table cloth, but also on me.

Ginny laughed until she had tears in her eyes, dabbing at Harry's chin with a napkin, as he blushed and apologized to me. I watched with fondness as they looked lovingly into each other's eyes.

I think love holds a handful of promises; some empty others full to the brim. It would only seem natural that love is also different for each person. Ultimately, you hold the choice. I chose to love Ron, he chose to love Lavender.

xXxXx

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! If you want an explanation, read the A/N on top of the page. Thanks to all the wonderful and fabulous reviewers, especially **kimi**, who really got me thinking about how I'd characterized Hermione.

**kimi**: I can't thank you enough for you're comment. It really allowed me to go over why Hermione had that job, and reminded me that I hadn't yet explained the reasons. She is still organized, but she's mellowed out since her first year, and even more so during the war…or at least, that's what I'm going for in this fic. Also, I didn't see the need in having Hermione charm her flat to be larger because she's not one to overindulge, and I think she would be satisfied with what she had, as long as Ron was comfortable. I hope this helps clear up some things for you, and don't worry, I wasn't at all offended, and I hope you aren't either. I welcomed the constructive criticism, thanks for brining it up!

**kArLiTaLuNa**: Yes, poor Hermione…things seem to be getting a little better though, or maybe just a bit more comical, which is sort of unfortunate for her. I guess that saying is true as well, "You don't know what you've got it until you lose it."

**Wilty**: I'm sorry it almost made you cry…but that's a good thing right? Your sister is one of my favorite reviewers, and you're related so you are too! haha

**Sugarquill824**: I don't think this chapter was quite as angsty as the last, so I hope you enjoyed it!

**Jade Summers**: As always, your review got me laughing. For the safety of your feet, I hope the mice are all gone! Writers block is gone…for now haha, lets hope it stays that way.

**Paulalou**: Thanks for taking the exception and reviewing on my _second_ chapter…hopefully you'll review the fourth one anyway, whenever that one comes along.

Special thanks to: -**jaydedangel73**-, -**Weasel Princess**-, -**Pink Luvin Goddess**-, and -**Sleepyhead22**-

Don't forget, when you're done reading to review. It doesn't have to be long, spelled correctly, or anything special. Just a word or two on what you thought would be great.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm trying my best to get these chapters out as quick as I can, especially before my Christmas break as I don't expect I'll be writing much because I'll be on vacation.

Because of a review left to me by Sugarquil824, I decided to go further with Hermione's opinion on the difference between choosing who you love or being fated to love someone. Be sure to look for it!

Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by J.K. Rowling, quotes from Grey's Anatomy, and "Rebecca," by Daphne du Maurier. Only the plot is mine.

xXxXx

- _The loss of love is not nearly as painful as our resistance to accepting it is – Tigress Luv_

**Hidden Sorrows: Chapter Four**

In my third year, when I was taking Muggle Studies, my class had to read Romeo and Juliet. Then, for extra credit, the teacher, Miss Mourner, had us act out all the parts. Being my usually self, I jumped at the option of extra credit, though I had hardly needed it, and quickly offered my services to the Squib teacher.

Blaise Zambini was quickly chosen to be Romeo because, in my opinion, our teacher had a slight crush. He was a handsome chap who had every first through third year girl swooning at his mere presence, and even some pitiful fourth years as well. His hair was long and black as the sky at midnight when there was no moon. His eyes were just as dark as his hair except that they had a crystal blue spark surrounding the iris. He was always polite and quite the charmer when the occasion called for it, but was put in Slytherin for his sly mind and cunning actions.

As fate would have it, I was picked to be Juliet. All the other girls were envious, but I had a slightly different take.

Before we acted it out, Miss Mourner decided to have an open discussion on the famous forbidden romance, encouraging us to state our honest opinions. The Hufflepuff girls dreamily stated how much they themselves fancied a relationship such as the two star-crossed lovers.

I remember how my opinion had shocked and even offended some of the classmates. I had raised my hand tentatively at first, and then had begun shaking it in eager anticipation. When she'd finally called on me, I had boldly stood up. I bluntly told Miss Mourner that Juliet was an idiot.

For starters, she fell for the one guy that she knows she can't have, and then blames fate for her own bad decision. Miss Mourner gently explained to me that when fate comes into play, choice sometimes goes out the window. At the ripe old age of fourteen, I was very clear that love, like life, was about making choices, and that fate had nothing to do with it. Everyone protested, proclaiming things like,

"It's _so_ romantic, though."

And,

"Romeo and Juliet, true love…"

How sad. If Juliet was daft enough to fall for the enemy, drink a bottle of poison, and go to sleep in a coffin, she deserved whatever she got.

From then on Zambini had been determined to change my mind on love and romance. Each time we would act it out, I had felt like he wasn't just reciting lines, but really trying to tell me something important. I never quite figured it out, but even if I had, I doubt that at the time I would've believed it. Even so, I think that had things not happened as they had, Zambini and I would've remained friends. Our almost friendship was quickly desecrated with one act in the story; the kiss.

Having previously 'poisoned' myself, I remember sulkily pretending to be asleep on the desks we'd joined together for that particular scene. My heart had been racing, beating so fast and so loud that I was sure that Zambini could hear it as he stepped next to the desk and began saying his lines. He was a brilliant actor and I'd calmed myself with the thought that he was _so_ good, that he could _fake_ the kiss and nobody but I would notice.

Suddenly, I'd felt his breath against my face, and tensed as his body leant over mine. Moments before our lips touched, however, my eyes had snapped open and I'd already slipped off the desk before anything could happen. Zambini had lost his balance, however, and while I'd stood off to the side, biting my lip and absently fingering the chain of the Time Turner around my neck, he'd yelped in pain as his face unceremoniously made contact with the desk, his nose breaking immediately.

Needless to say, we hadn't spoken since, that is until Ginny and Malfoy reintroduced us, so to speak. Ginny had secretly gone and talked to Malfoy, our boss, about my circumstance. I've no idea what was said, but can only assume that he first laughed his arse off and had to be thoroughly convinced before agreeing to Ginny's plot. The afternoon following the dinner at Harry's, Ginny had misleadingly taken me out for a cup of tea.

We'd arrived at the local café with Ginny shoving me in the door as I spotted Malfoy sitting with Zambini. Far enough away that they couldn't hear, I'd pleaded with Ginny not to make me talk to the extremely handsome Blaise, desperately trying to explain why I couldn't so much as show my face because of what had happened. Hardly able to get two words from my mouth, I was interrupted.

"Ginevra, Grang-Hermione," Malfoy called with a small amount of difficulty, "Over here." I'd growled under my breath as Ginny smiled innocently and gently turned me around so that my beet red face was facing the two former Slytherins. Malfoy, I noticed at once, had his blustering smirk firmly in place, while Zambini regarded me placidly, absently rubbing at a faint scar on the bridge of his nose.

Feeling a pinch in the middle of my back, I jumped forward with a small yelp, glaring at Ginny over my shoulder before bracing my shoulders and calmly walking towards the small table which they were seated at. Zambini promptly stood as we came and Malfoy followed his show of manners, albeit with an amused sneer. As soon as Ginny and I took a seat, the boys sat as well.

The server came over then to take our orders and I determinedly avoided making eye contact with Blaise. Deciding to ask for their delicious Lemon Tea, the same drink I'd had with Lavender, I made to order it in a clear, unfazed voice but flushed as it came out rather shakily.

My eyes snapped to Malfoy sitting next to me as I heard him snort, and then I smirked as Ginny kicked him from under the table. He glared but surprisingly said nothing, and instead glanced disinterestedly around the café, observing our surroundings.

"You know, Granger, you're going to have to at least _look_ at Blaise if you want him to play along with this charade," Malfoy drawled in a frustrated tone after a couple moments of awkward silence.

At an agonizing slow rate, my eyes rose to meet Zambini's and I was startled to see a kind smile on his face. I smiled in return, though it was strained, and quickly looked back down at the table.

"I don't bite, you know," Blaise said suddenly, and looking up again, I saw him frown. He wasn't mad at me? Not only that, but he wasn't offended by what had happened? I asked him as much, not caring if my voice sounded incredulous.

"Of course not, I'm the only one who received the extra credit, remember?" He said with a teasing wink. I felt butterflies swarm my stomach. Ginny and Malfoy looked on curiously as we began engaging in conversation, reminding each other of how much fun we used to have together until that fateful 'kiss.'

"Er…what happened with Romeo and Jules now?" Malfoy asked confusedly, trying his best to comprehend the story as we continued to ramble on.

"Julie_t_," Ginny whispered, quickly correcting him but waited intently for our answer. Blaise and I looked at each other and promptly burst out in laughter, leaving our friends glancing at us warily. Clearing his throat, Blaise began telling the story in an overly dramatic tone, though this did not faze Ginny and Malfoy as they listened with eager curiosity. I hid my face behind my hands as he got to the kissing scene.

"So that's where you got that scar," Malfoy laughed and then turned to me. "He tried to tell me what happened, but me, being the prat I was," Here I blanched. "All I heard was that a girl was the cause. I thought he had gotten thrashed by a silly school girl."

Blaise smirked. "For weeks he teased me unmercifully."

Our tea arrived then, and we all drank contently, still laughing. I enjoyed the small break from reality, a world free of broken hearts and endless tears. I knew though, that this would be short lived, and was correct in assuming that I would have to explain what exactly had happened, as no one quite knew the whole story.

There had been small stories in the tabloids read in frenzy, especially since Ron and I were commonly known as, 'The Loyal Sidekicks of The-Boy-Who-Lived.' We, along with Harry and Ginny, had been one of the few examples of a surviving relationship, which is why we were sometimes followed by cameras when Ron and I had been dating.

Now, on the rare occasion the photographers did show up for Witch Weekly, they attempted to only get shots of me looking at my worst so they could write all about how heartbroken I was because Ron had dumped me, insinuating that we were too young to be in love anyway. It seemed that they either didn't know, or didn't care, that _I_ was the one who had ended things, though I now regretted that with every fiber of my being.

My stomach clenched painfully as I was asked to tell the others at the table why Ron and I had split. I retold the tale in a numb tone, though it was quite obvious that I was torn up about it as my eyes betrayed all my feelings and began to water.

"Why don't you just tell Ron what you really want?" Blaise asked softly. I sighed and told him the honest truth; it's not telling him how I feel that scares me, it's what he'll say back.

Hastily wiping at the tears and pretending the small lapse in my story hadn't occurred, I continued with how Lavender and I had begun talking, and how she had unintentionally told me that Ron hadn't even mentioned that we had just broken up, but instead boasted about my 'wonderful bloke,' of an ex boyfriend.

"That's rich, the sodding oaf," Ginny muttered heatedly under her breath as we all sat in silence.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "How did Lavender not know when it was in the tabloids?" Not wanting to answer any more questions, Ginny gladly took over for me.

"She doesn't believe in them, only reads magazines for the Horoscopes. She doesn't seem to care about much else," She said with a wry smile.

"Right, so I need to be charming, romantic, and good looking," Blaise said, counting off the details I'd mentioned on his hand. "No problem," He said with a smirk as Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"You've practically made a sign declaring your love for Blaise just by telling Brown that much," He said with a chuckle. "Those are his most well-known qualities." I smiled as Blaise airily tossed his head to the side in a joking manner.

Talking for a few minutes more, they agreed that the 'charade' should begin that night at a party being hosted by the Weasleys to congratulate Ginny and Harry on their up and coming wedding that was to be held in just two weeks. I suddenly panicked and began protesting wildly, saying that it was too soon, and that Ron wouldn't possibly believe it. Ginny patted my hand comfortingly as Malfoy said confidently,

"You just make him think that you're madly in love with Zambini right now, and that's all he'll focus on." I nodded, trying in vain to make myself believe that. The well known quote, easier said than done, flashed through my mind.

xXxXx

I can feel now the stiff, set smile on my face that did not match the misery in my eyes. It was Blaise who brought me a plate of food I could not eat. Blaise who stood at my elbow with a glass of champagne that I would not drink, for fear that it would stick in my throat and I would choke. Though later, Blaise had told me that I'd done an excellent job of acting in love, I personally feel that I'd done a much crummier job than he led me to believe.

It wasn't that I hadn't practiced, Merlin no. Ginny and Malfoy had me and Blaise working on different stances, poses, and even smiles that would make it look just so, yet as soon as I saw Ron, everything we'd rehearsed flew out the window, and I'd hardly been able to breathe, let alone act. Lavender had tripped on the carpet leading to the sitting room and Ron had steadied her with a small smile. Suddenly, I'd remembered when something quite similar had happened just after he and I had begun dating.

_I'd just arrived at the Quidditch Pitch where Ron and his teammates were training for the next match. Sitting in the stands, I recall being mesmerized by his abilities as a Keeper. As practiced finished, he'd flown over to where I was sitting, landing a few rows down from me. I'd jumped up giddily and made to rush down to him by stepping over the wooden seats, but tripped over a loose board. Just before I could hit anything solid, Ron had taken a hold of me and picked me up laughing._

"_It's okay because I love you," He'd whispered._

Though it was only a small memory, the emotion of it was enough to make me break down, and probably would have if Blaise hadn't carefully lead me outside to get a breath of fresh air from the stifling atmosphere in the small, but cozy room.

Ron had looked up at me as the door opened and our eyes met. I looked into his eyes, once again searching for any kind of emotion…and saw only my reflection. Blaise had nudged me and I'd quickly reached for his hand, seeking comfort more than trying to act. I remember feeling satisfied as I saw Ron's eyes narrow before we closed to door, shutting off his view of us.

A few tears had slipped from my eyes and I gave a humorless laugh before apologizing to Blaise. He'd shook his head, saying that he understood if I was still upset (though I doubted he really did). After all, it had hardly been a week since I'd found out. Rubbing my back, he'd looked me straight in the eye.

"Right, now we're going to have to go back in there sometime, and eventually, you'll need to introduce me to Lavender as you promised her you would. Can you do it? Can you be strong for me just for a little while longer?" He'd asked me softly, his piercing eyes looking directly into my own.

It's hard to be strong when the person you love is the one thing that makes you the weakest. Nonetheless, I'd nodded and hastily muttered another spell to readjust my mascara and, taking a deep breath, turned and opened the door, lightly pulling Blaise in behind me. Ironically enough, Lavender had caught sight of us straight away and rushed over with a huge grin.

"Is this the guy?" She'd asked, giving Blaise an appreciative once over. I'd smiled, making sure to blush as I looked up at Blaise. As he had introduced himself to Lavender, I quickly glanced around the room for Ron to check his reaction and instead found my eyes landing on Malfoy standing next to Pansy, watching me from the corner of his eye. He'd given me an approving nod and I'd quickly looked away, remembering to focus on pretending to be in love while facing Lavender.

"You never told me you dated _Blaise Zambini_," She'd gushed quietly. Then she had looked at him suddenly with a thoughtful expression. "I had no idea you were an Auror," she said. Blaise had looked at me curiously and I'd shrugged and given him a contrite smile at forgetting to mention that.

He'd nodded at Lavender. "Yes, in the Department of Mysteries, actually. That's probably why you didn't know," He'd lied easily.

"And are you two dating again?" She'd asked with a sly wink in my direction. He'd looked at me and brushed his hand against my cheek, and I had been startled to realize that this was _not_ something that we had practiced. I'd quickly played along, though, and I even grabbed his hand from my face and pulled him closer towards me.

"I'll take that as a yes," Lavender had said with a laugh. "It was nice seeing you, Hermione, and nice to meet you Blaise, I'm sorry we never talked during our Hogwarts years." She'd said before leaving and going back over to Ron. As soon as she got to him he began heatedly asking her questions, sending Blaise a few glares as I assumed she told him that we were dating.

Blaise, in turn, had smirked back at Ron, before whispering, "Mission accomplished. I do believe Hermione that we can leave now." I remember letting out a relieved breath. Next, I'd walked over to Harry and Ginny, thanking them for a wonderful party (I'd decided not to inform them that the party had actually been the worst I'd ever attended since I didn't think they would take this so well) and gave them a final congratulation on their wedding. They'd laughed sheepishly and looked at each other lovingly, and I had felt my throat tighten painfully. Before I could leave, Ginny had hurriedly pulled me aside telling Harry she needed to discuss some wedding things with me.

"Mione," She'd said hurriedly. "You need to go over and say goodbye to Ron and Lavender." I looked at her and laughed. She was kidding right? "I'm not kidding," Guess not. "Trust me, it'll make him think you're more mature than he is and that you've moved on." I'd frowned but did as she told me to, though I draggged Blaise along with me.

I'd greeted him with a warm smile, finally allowing my firm mask to slip and feeling my old emotions for my first and only love rise up again. Blaise had then nudged me again, however this time more lightly, and I'd hastily introduced him to Ron before mentioning that we had only come over to say goodbye. Ron had tossed Zambini a glare, ignoring me completely before walking away into the kitchen. Hurt, I'd looked confusedly at Lavender who rolled her eyes.

"He's just jealous, I'm sorry Hermione." She said kindly.

"Jealous of what?" Blaise asked, albeit with a knowing expression he'd discreetly sent in my direction.

Lavender had laughed loudly. "Why you, of course, since you're such a romantic and all." She'd laughed again and teasingly hit Blaise in the shoulder as if he'd told a uproariously funny joke. He'd looked at me and smirked, saying without words, 'I told you so.' This was supposed to be good news for me, but I found that though our plan had succeeded, I didn't feel anything remotely near happiness, but instead felt like I'd done something terribly wrong, like I'd cheated on Ron or something, though we were broken up. Ron had come back then with two glasses of Apple Cider.

"You're still here?" He'd growled at Blaise, still refusing to meet my eyes. "I thought you were leaving,"

"Ron," Lavender had snapped with another apologetic glance at me.

He looked and her and his face softened. "Sorry, love," he said, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. I recall that all the blood in my face promptly drained and had left me looking sickly pale. I guess there'll always be that one awkward moment when you're with the person you love and you remember all that you once had. Seeing my distressed state, Blaise had hurriedly said goodbye and took me outside. I don't remember Apparating but only the moment Blaise had left me at my flat.

"Are you sure you're okay, Hermione?" He'd asked softly. I'd nodded, not really hearing him, and closed the door in his face before he could ask any more questions.

An hour later, I was walking numbly into my room. Not even looking at which one I was picking up, I slipped into a nightgown and climbed under the covers. Though I was not tired enough to fall asleep, I hoped that by ending my day early, perhaps I could get a fresh start and have a better day tomorrow. My article was due in just two days and I hadn't even started yet.

As I finally felt the familiar sensation of my eyes beginning to get heavy, I allowed myself one last thought. Maybe everybody was right; we were too young to be in love. Actually, not to be in love, but just to make love work.

Maybe Romeo and Juliet were fated to be together, but just for a little while, then their time passed. If they could've known that beforehand, maybe it all would've been okay. I remember telling Miss Mourner that when I was grown up, I'd take fate into my own hands. I wouldn't let some bloke drag me down. Miss Mourner said I'd be lucky if I ever had that kind of passion with someone and that if I did, we'd be together forever.

I guess now I still believe, for the most part, that love is about making choices. It's about putting down that dagger and making your own happy ending, and that sometimes, despite all your best choices, and all your best intentions, fate wins anyway.

xXxXx

A/N: That was a slightly angsty ending, and a somewhat shorter chapter, but I'm trying to keep it on track with the plot so bear with me for now. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

I'm sorry to say that the next one might not come for a while, though I will try my best to get it up as quick as I can. There's a couple things going on right now in school (exams for one) that are sure to keep me occupied, so I'm just giving you all a fair warning.

**Sugarquill824**: I hope you noticed that I went further on your last review, thank you for that by the way, it really got me thinking. You seem really intuitive on relationships, so good on you! If you have any more thoughts or questions, please review, I'd love to hear from you.

**Wilty**: Yes, I had hoped it would come as a surprise to some people that Malfoy is now her boss. I'll go into his character more in later chapters and explain his background during the war and other things as well. Thanks for the review!

**Pink Luvin Goddess**: I hope I update quickly enough for you, I'll try to keep it up. As for Hermione getting the job…well we'll just have to wait and see won't we now? Thanks for your thoughts!

**Jaydedangel73**: I'm glad you've continued reading, and I hope this chapter wasn't so sad that you'll decide to stop. Keep hoping that they'll get back together…who knows what I'll come up with.

Let me know what you thought, I love to hear your comments!

-Sunflour-


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the wait but this was the soonest possible time I could post this chapter as my life has lately been both hectic and extremely time pressed. In fact there's 3405980384 things (that exact number, I promise) I need to do as soon as I post this. Enough rambling, though, continue on and hope you enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by J.K. Rowling, quotes from Everybody Loves Raymond, "Flipped," by Wendelin Van Draanen, and "Great Expectations," by Charles Dickens. Only the plot is mine.

xXxXx

_Everybody's screaming, I try to make a sound_

_but no one hears me_

_I'm slipping off the edge, I'm hanging by a thread_

_I wanna start this over again_

_So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered – Simple Plan_

**Hidden Sorrows: Chapter Five**

I awoke the next morning to the shrieking sound of my muggle alarm. Muttering a few well chosen curses, I slammed my hand on the blasted clock and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my bleary eyes. My article for the Romance Section of the Daily Prophet was due by the end of the day and I had yet to even begin it. I didn't even know what to write about, and found it strange that Malfoy should pick me, of all people, to advise others on subjects such as, how to find 'the one,' and, how to know that love is real and out there for all young witches still searching, and, most sardonic of all, how to make relationships last. I would have laughed had it not been so depressingly ironic.

Sighing as I realized that I had already wasted five minutes of my day dwelling in self-pity, I placed my feet tenderly on the cold wooden floor and took the few steps to Ron's closet- er, I mean my extra closet that I'd recently acquired, yes that closet. Looking forlornly at the numerous business dress suits Ginny had bought me as a welcoming gift for my new job (hopefully), I finally decided on a black button-up collared shirt with a matching knee-length black skirt, mostly because I thought the color suited my mood quite well.

Still, I wanted to make a favorable impression when I handed Malfoy my article at the end of that day and I didn't want to look like I'd risen from the dead, so I switched the shirt to a white button-up and then matched the no longer somber outfit with some black heels and a knee-length black jacket that buttoned in the middle, Ginny's selections of course.

Struggling to walk in the kind of shoes that I hadn't the confidence to wear since the breakup, I made my way (slowly) to the bathroom. I looked at my reflection and scowled as it told me to snap out of my gloomy mood and fix my appearance. Apparently it was embarrassed to be seen looking so bleak and the other reflections were starting to talk.

Resisting the urge to throw my brush at the mirror in a heated tantrum, I instead determinedly pulled it through my curly locks, effectively smoothing them down. By adding a light layer of cover up, I noticed with a satisfied smile that my face no longer looked splotchy from tears shed the night before. With practiced hands, I applied my much loved mascara and finally declared to my reflection that this was as good as it was going to get.

Noting that she had lost interest in the case after briefly saying that I looked pretty, though I had a suspicion she said it only to please me, I walked to the front door, retrieving the things I would need on the way. I passed the kitchen and dismissed the idea of eating breakfast, knowing that I wouldn't be able to taste any of it anyway. Leaving, I closed the door to my flat with a triumphant click. Maybe I could get through this after all.

xXxXx

"Have you gone _completely_ bonkers? You can't publish stories like this in the Daily Prophet!" Draco yelled incredulously, throwing the said story harshly upon the desk for emphasis, though it wasn't _my_ desk, nor was it _my_ story. I had walked in from the crowded bustling streets thinking that I could finally get some peace from the hectic last-minute holiday shoppers only to walk straight into a war between my boss and Pansy.

"Of course I can, I'm a Malfoy, remember?" Pansy shot back haughtily knowing that she was using words Draco himself used numerous times a day.

I took this statement with surprise, as I hadn't known that Draco and Pansy were married. I guess I always pictured Draco as the permanent bachelor sort of fellow, but now, glancing at both of their hands, I saw the most beautiful rings I'd had yet to lay my eyes upon. Though his was a simple gold band, it had engraved on it in silver both his and Pansy's names and the date of what I could only assume was their wedding day. Pansy's was also a gold band, though hers had a circular diamond stone resting promptly in the middle of it. How could I have missed something so obvious?

"Darling," Draco began delicately, picking up the paper Pansy had written again. "I don't think the benefits a divorce will blend in too well with the Romance Section. People look here for positive articles to make them feel better about their own failing or struggling relationships. I have the feeling that you reminding them that the divorce rate is up and continuing to grow won't exactly cheer those lovesick readers up." He finished with a scowl.

My face flushed as I remembered that I too had searched the papers a week after the break had begun for any scrap that could possibly help me get Ron to forgive me.

Pansy sat down with a huff into her chair and ripped the paper out of Draco's hands, throwing it in the trash, and beginning a new story with a fresh piece of parchment and purposely dragging her quill across the clean page with a painful screech.

Taking notice of me, Draco walked over as he rubbed his temples tiredly. "Morning, Hermione." I nodded in greeting. "Have you got your paper for me?" He asked expectantly. I stuttered a reply that I still needed to make a few corrections before he interrupted me. "Bloody hell Granger, just sit at your desk and start it already. I don't care _when_ you write it, I just need to know that it'll be in my hands before you leave this afternoon."

"Don't you talk to her like that Draco Malfoy!" Pansy spat, standing and walking over to him. "It's one thing to talk to your wife in that manner, but one of your new employees?"

"It's just a testing week, she's not an employee yet," Draco muttered though Pansy seemed to have not heard him.

"No, I won't stand for it," She continued on, muttering things that really had nothing to do with me. I had a feeling that she wasn't so much defending me as much as she wanted to have a reason for arguing with Malfoy. I watched alarmed as Draco rolled his eyes, never a good sign in our Hogwarts days.

"Will you SHUT IT?" He snapped. Ginny and Padma hurriedly rushed over to me and led me towards my desk, as it had the best view of Draco and Pansy. We looked on with suspense as Pansy opened and closed her mouth in outrage, trying to word her emotions correctly.

"Oh, he's in for it now," Ginny whispered with a smirk. I allowed Padma to sit in my chair as Ginny and I leaned against the desks to watch the married couple's ongoing battle.

"Don't worry, they do this just about every morning," Padma reassured after seeing my worried look. "Immediately afterward, he calls her into his office and…well, things are back to normal." She said with a wink as Ginny laughed in agreement. We silenced as Pansy finally spoke to a now nervous looking Draco as he too realized his mistake.

"Don't you tell me to be quiet! I have a mind of my own you know, I can contribute when I feel it's necessary. I'm not just some…some _trophy wife_!" She yelled shrilly as Draco's scoffed.

"_You're_ a trophy wife? What contest in _hell_ did I win?" He shouted back. I smothered a laugh as Ginny snorted and earned a glare from the two Malfoys. "What are you three ogling at? Get back to work," Draco ordered before storming down the hall and slamming the door that led to his office. Pansy glowered at our apparent amusement, tossed her glossy black locks over her shoulder and stuck her nose indignantly in the air as she went back to her desk to finish writing her new story.

"'Spose he's right," Ginny said dejectedly, as the idea of actually having to work was not extremely appealing. Padma sighed but nonetheless agreed and went back to her own desk, wishing me good luck on my article as she went.

I pondered for about ten minutes but still had no clue what topic I should share with the thousands of clueless readers who read the Romance Section in the Daily Prophet every week. Exasperated, I wandered over to Ginny's desk where I found her sleeping face down on her finished article. Somewhat shocked that she'd managed to finish it in that short amount of time, I nudged her awake. She sat up with a jolt, before focusing on her surroundings and finally looking up at me.

"Something you needed?" She asked me tiredly with a yawn. Not knowing how to put it, I simply gestured to her completed paper with a look that said, 'Help me.' Ginny chuckled as she stretched.

"Writer's block?" She asked with a familiar tone as I nodded. "I have _plenty_ of experience in that department, so I think I might be able to help you." She looked thoughtful as I waited for her to continue. "You need to think of something that inspires you. And by inspire, I don't mean something that makes you feel exceedingly cheerful or something that causes you to laugh. Do you see what I mean?"

I didn't see that, but I didn't say so. At my silence, she continued.

"I mean something that sparks emotion from deep within you. It doesn't have to be remarkably complex or anything," She added fleetingly as I began to suggest something I'd read in Hogwart's, A History.

"For example, about two weeks ago, I took inspiration from a quote that Harry found engraved on one of the bricks on our flat building. Let's see," She said trying to remember its exact words. "Right, it said, 'The toughest part about getting to the top of the ladder is getting through the crowd at the bottom.' That one sentence led me to think, what is that ladder, what does it stand for, can it stand for more than one thing? At that moment I knew I had an inspiration to write about, yes?"

I saw that, and said so.

Ginny smiled kindly, said she hoped that helped me and hurried over to gossip with Padma as Pansy was called into Draco's office. A few moments after she entered his office, enraged shouting could be heard, and a few moments after that, a couple seconds of silence ensued before both Pansy and Draco walked out with wide grins and declared they were going out for some tea.

Something that sparks emotion…yes, this would be difficult. And suddenly, I had it and I slapped myself on the forehead for being so daft. The breakup with Ron! Who better to help other women who were broken-hearted than someone who was still trying to pick up the pieces?

After sitting at my desk a couple minutes started fruitlessly at a black piece of parchment and unused quill, I finally decided on a topic and began scribbling my ideas down. I continued in this fashion, drawing out how I wanted the paper to go, crossing out the things that wouldn't work until finally I was satisfied with the outline. Whispering a spell to make two extra copies of the parchment, I placed one in front of me off to the side and put the others in separate files, just in case I should lose one and for some reason lose another as well.

Seeing that everything was organized around me, I took a deep breath, glanced at my outline, and started the article, making sure to pour out my every emotion into each adjective, conjunction, pronoun I wrote.

XxXxX

A few hours later, I found myself out drinking tea with Ginny at my new favorite café. We had been chatting aimlessly about things that didn't concern work or relationships, wanting to keep the moment comfortable for the both of us. It was out of strict manners that I didn't ask Ginny questions that had been on the bridge of slipping out since I'd finished my article and sent it in for editing before I gave it to Draco for the final decision. When Ginny began telling me a humorous story about her and Harry that made my stomach give a familiar lurch for longing, I couldn't help but ask her one last question; how did she know that Harry was the right one for her?

"Every time I saw him, I would get nauseous and tingly all over. Either I was in love, or I had small pox." She said with a smile and I laughed. Taking on a more pensive look, she then answered more truthfully. "I don't know how I knew, but I think I just felt it from deep within me. One day, he looked into my eyes and my heart stopped. It just stopped beating. And for the first time in my life, I had that feeling."

I raised my eyebrows in confusion, indicating that no, I did not know what 'that feeling' was, and took another sip of my tea.

"You know, like the world is moving all around you, all beneath you, all _inside_ you, and you're floating, floating in midair. And the only thing that's keeping you from drifting away is the other person's eyes. They're connected to yours by some invisible, physical force, and they hold you fast while the rest of the world swirls and twirls and falls completely away." I sighed somewhat dreamily, a tint of sadness and regret mixed in along with it, as Ginny smiled in a lovesick manner that almost made me sick.

"Right," Ginny said suddenly, snapping out of her reverie. "What were we on about before that?" I chuckled and told her I couldn't even remember but told her with a tone of awe that I realized now why she was one of the best writers for the Romance Section. She rolled her eyes disbelievingly but looked pleased just the same. Glancing at her watch, her face switched to one that held an anxious expression.

"I promised Ron he could meet me here today, and I hadn't even thought to ask you if that would be alright…" She trailed off woefully, but I shook my head as if to say, nonsense, and quickly assured her this was fine, as I wouldn't be staying much longer anyway. I _said_ I didn't care, but the tightening in my chest that made it harder to breathe as Ron soon came walking into our view from around the corner told a far different story.

It let me know that I was still very much in love with Ronald Weasley, but it also reminded me that he was very much in love with somebody else.

Ron came to the table and gave Ginny an affectionate kiss on top of her head before nodding politely at me and taking a seat across from where I sat, making sure to avert his eyes from mine. Not wanting to have to sit through this any longer than I had to, I stood and said I'd get them some tea but then I had to be off. Ginny gave me a meek, apologetic smile, while Ron just nodded, looking around at other customers instead of meeting my awaiting gaze.

His lips tipped downward as he saw a waitress beginning to lose her balance, but just as it looked like she was about to fall, she righted herself and he went back to observing the café. All at once I had the urge to kiss those tender lips, something I should've taken advantage of when we were still together. Tearing myself away from the table with all the free will I had, I forcefully placed one foot in front of the other and walked to the counter, ordering two cups of lemon tea and two crumpets. While waiting, I became immersed in my thoughts.

I wished that I could hate him. Then I wouldn't have to suffer by looking into his eyes, those beautiful, deep blue eyes which never seemed to connect with my own anymore. Then I wouldn't want to cry simply because he smiled and I knew that he was happy while I was not. Then I wouldn't want to melt whenever he laughed because each laugh brought back a memory of when it had been so easy to make each other fall into a fit of laughter.

If I hated him I wouldn't get butterflies every time I saw him walk around into my view because then I would wishfully think, maybe when he sees me, he'll get butterflies too, and then be disappointed when it became obvious that he didn't. Then I wouldn't want to kiss his lips every time they so much as twitched, because with each twitch, I'd feel an ache in my heart as I recalled how good it felt to release your feelings not into words, but into a heated, passionate kiss.

I wished I hated him because then I wouldn't love him as I do, yet still have to make up silly excuses to leave simply to avoid his ever averted stare.

"Miss?" The cashier prodded and I realized she'd been waiting for me to take the tea and crumpets for the past two minutes and I'd just been standing there. Feeling my face begin to heat up, I quickly snatched the offered tray and carried it to the table where Ron and Ginny sat. They were both eyeing me curiously so I chuckled nervously and told them I hadn't been able to decide if I wanted something or not and that the cashier was simply impatient. I doubt they bought it.

Telling them once more that I had to be off, I left some sickles on the table to pay for the tea, nodded at Ginny, glanced once more at Ron (who was now looking stubbornly at the tablecloth), and all but ran out of the café. I rounded the corner to begin my walk back to the office, but not before I heard Ginny chastising Ron.

"The day you realize who you should _really_ be with might just be the day she tells you you've waited too long. I suggest you read through the Daily Prophet tomorrow." She snapped heatedly as she stood.

Throwing some more sickles angrily on the table as Ron looked shocked at her behavior and walking out of the café in a furious manner, she tossed her hair over her shoulder just as Pansy had done earlier. Catching my eye as she exited, I stepped to the side to avoid people passing by us and waited for her to catch up. As she came close enough, I began walking again, wanting to get away from the blasted café, but allowed her to match my pace.

"Sodding git," She muttered under her breath and I smiled gratefully at her but refused to look over my shoulder as I heard Ron shouting for Ginny to come back. In response, Ginny turned her nose in the air and continued walking with me, and I was struck with how much she looked like Pansy at that moment.

"I see Pansy do it so often, it sort of catches on, you know?" She said with a smile as we entered our office building and I nodded, trying not to laugh as I too now stuck my nose pompously in the air. Ginny and I must've looked like quite the pair, too snobby writers heading to the Romance Section as if we were about to set fire to the whole building. The people we passed eyed us warily.

"Er, Miss Granger?" A gawky looking intern asked suddenly. I almost snorted at the look of fear in his face as Ginny and I both turned and looked down at him superiorly. "You're article's been edited," He squeaked. "I just wanted to tell you, it was…er…one of the best pieces I've edited so far." He added hastily before running back to his cubicle. My nose quickly dropped from the air and I felt shock enter my system.

Well of course it was the best piece he's ever read, he's an intern, he can't have read that many articles right? That was what I told myself as I walked back into what the Prophet had nicknamed, Lover's Corner, and picked up my article that had been placed on my organized desk. It had a couple minor adjustments, but other than a few grammatical errors, everything was just as I had written it and for this I was glad. It was with shaky legs that I entered Draco's office and with shaky hands that I handed him the paper. Would he treat it as he had Pansy's earlier?

I sat down tiredly in the white leather chair as I waited for him to finish reading it over and searched his face for some kind of reaction. His gray eyes traveled quickly over the lines, yet I could tell they were taking in every word with extreme scrutiny. Absently, he picked up a quill and began twirling it idly in his hand. I tensed as he paused at one sentence and reread it a couple of times before letting out a small sigh of relief as he continued. Not wanting to watch his reaction anymore, I stood and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, moving the transparent white curtains that obscured my view of the streets of Diagon Alley.

A couple moments later, I heard Draco clear his throat and I quickly walked back to the chair and sat down, looking nervously at my hands and waiting for him to say how much he hated it. When two minutes had passed and nothing had yet been said, I finally forced myself to look up into his waiting eyes.

"I'd like to officially welcome you as a new employee to the Romance Section of the Daily Prophet." He said clearly as a smile I didn't think possible for a Malfoy to hold graced his face.

Standing up, he moved around his oversized mahogany desk and held out his hand to shake my own. Finally comprehending what this meant, I jumped up from the chair and pushed his hand away as I shrieked giddily and hugged him with all my might. He laughed, albeit a bit uncomfortably as I was still clinging onto him, and patted my back in an awkward manner.

"Right, do you want to go and break the news to the girls?" He asked straightening his tie as we finally parted. I nodded jubilantly and hurriedly exited his office, rushing back to my new office. Ginny, Padma and Pansy similarly shrieked when I told them the good news, and they each congratulated me while I made my way back to my desk to gather my things so I could leave. Though I was overjoyed at the news, I was also very emotionally drained and wanted nothing more than to go home, eat dinner, and go to sleep.

As I was getting ready to walk out however, Pansy called me back saying there was an owl waiting for me on my desk. Thanking her briefly, I walked back to my desk and took the letter tied to the owl's outstretched leg, conjuring some water for it as I opened the letter addressed in an elegant scrawl that I didn't recognize. It read;

_Dear Hermione,_

_I haven't heard from you since Ginny and Harry's engagement party and I was just wondering whether you would like to meet for breakfast tomorrow morning? If you can't, I understand, just please write me back as soon as you get this so I can make plans. _

_Love,_

_Blaise_

I wasn't sure how to respond to this. Had he really signed it, 'Love Blaise'? What did that mean? Love as a friend, love as in 'I like you love', or love as in 'I-always-sign-my-letters-with-love-Blaise' love? Casting all this to the back of my mind, I quickly wrote a reply back saying, yes I would _love_ to meet him tomorrow morning for breakfast, and gave the letter to the awaiting owl. Watching it fly off, I was left to wonder not only on what the love in his letter meant, but also the love in mine.

xXxXx

The next morning, Ron opened his eyes in a lazy fashion and slowly stood from his bed at the Burrow. He was reminded of the fact that he was the only Weasley who still lived with his parents each and every morning as he stood and walked past his Chudley Canons posters to the window for the routine of watching the sun rise. This was something he had taken from Hermione as she too used to do it every morning.

There was a deviant, almost mysterious feeling of calm that took over in watching the sun rise. It was as if observing something so much greater than yourself fight its way slowly into the sky every morning gave you inspiration like nothing else could. This particular morning, the sky was breathtaking. The sun, just beginning its journey, was already luminous and giving off an iridescent glow.

Though Ron was half-asleep still, even he could detect the beauty of the scene, and he realized that this feeling must be why Hermione had always insisted that he watch it with her, because alone, you felt extremely vulnerable. Pulling himself away from the vivid scenery, he trudged down the steps until he arrived in the kitchen. His mum had left him a note saying that she had gone to Diagon Alley to pick up a couple of things for some people from the Order, most of whom she stayed in contact with even after the war. This meant that he had the house to himself, as Arthur was unsurprisingly at work.

Sighing, Ron began the search for breakfast, checking every cabinet until he found the right one stocked with food. Deciding to keep it simple he chose some eggs and bread and with a swish of his wand, the eggs were being scrambled and the bread was toasting. A few short minutes later, all was ready and cooked and the aroma of food fully woke Ron up. His stomach growled as he carried his plate of food the short distance to the table.

Just before he could take his first bite, the loud cracking sound of someone Apparating just behind him startled Ron so much that he threw his fork across the room as he jumped up from the table, quickly turning around with his wand in hand. He was met with a rather breathless Harry and rolled his eyes as his best mate promptly sat down in his now empty seat and began eating the breakfast that Ron had made.

"Oi, I don't supposed you came over here just so you could eat some of my cooking. That's what Ginny's for." Ron complained. Harry nonetheless kept eating, but handed Ron the Daily Prophet that he'd folded and stuffed into his pocket before Apparating.

"Right, Ginny told me to read this today. Anything good?" Ron asked. Harry paused in his eating to quickly turn the page to the Romance Section before resuming in finishing off Ron's eggs. "Harry, I don't need advice on romance." He said bewildered. Harry sighed and pushed the now clean plate aside as he forced Ron to sit down across from him. He then took the paper from the redhead's fumbling hands and proceeded to read him the article Hermione had written.

_Take a Chance_

_Written by Hermione Granger_

_For all the broken-hearted out there desperately searching for answers, I think I might just have some for you. Recently, I was involved in a serious relationship that ended on a sour note. Many of you read about our break-up in the tabloids, but I want to give you the real story. It was not Ron who ended the relationship, but me. This happened for reasons too complicated and too stupid to even begin to explain, but the point is, _I_ ended it, and now I live with regrets, and it's all because I fell in love. _

_Though love itself is a complicated issue, I'll try to efficiently explain my meaning of the word. Love does something unexplainable to you. It gives you feelings of effervescent joy, making you feel truly alive just by spending time with that person you love, but it can also make questions arise at the worst of times, questions that probably shouldn't be asked or answered. In realizing my mistake of allowing the one good thing in my life to disappear, and finding out that it was too late to change anything, I began searching for answers. Was our relationship really worth all the pain in the end? Allow me to explain further._

_We all want to fall in love, but why? Because that experience makes us feel completely alive. Where every sense is heightened, every emotion magnified, our everyday reality is shattered and we're flying into the heavens. It may only last a moment, or an hour, or even an afternoon. Time doesn't diminish its value though, because no matter what, in the end we're left with memories that we'll treasure for the rest of our lives. _

_A famous muggle by the name of Mel Brooks once said, "As long as the world is turning, we're going to be dizzy and we're bound to make mistakes." What she didn't include is that even though we make those mistakes, we can also make those mistakes worth it, and sometimes, we can even fix them. _

_Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, so love the people who treat you right, forget about the ones who don't, and believe that everything happens for a reason. If you get a second chance, take it. If it changes your life, then let it, nobody said love would be easy._

The kitchen was filled with silence as Ron took it in, trying to comprehend what it all meant. Looking at Harry as he got up to leave, Ron opened his mouth to protest. He needed Harry here to help him think things through, but his friend interrupted him.

"This is up to you, mate. It's clear that Hermione still loves you, and she probably always will, but it's also clear that she's on the verge of having moved on. You love her? Then go get her." The raven-haired boy said simply before Apparating away and leaving a thoughtful Ron at the Burrow. And suddenly, Ron knew what he had to do.

xXxXx

A/N: That was a long chapter for me! I hadn't planned on it going so far in depth but I think it worked out pretty well…what do you guys think?

About the slow updating for this, I'm sorry! It really was the soonest I could do it and I hope you all understand this and continue reading. I missed a couple days of exams while I was on vacation so I'll have to make those up over the next two weeks, but I _should_ still be able to update on time.

I also know that the last chapter had a bunch of misspellings and other things that just weren't working, so I changed it up a bit, and if you'd like you can go back and reread it. It's not a serious change though, so I'm not sure if you'll notice anything different.

Thanks to my reviewers, and a special thanks to Natalie. I'll be answering any questions by hitting that new nifty reply button that I just found, so I hope this is alright with everybody. If a question is really important and needs to be answered for everybody, I'll answer it on here instead..that work?

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please review, I love feedback!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I feel horrible for how long it took me to get this out, but hopefully it'll be worth it.

This is the last chapter to the story, so do enjoy it!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by J.K. Rowling, and quotes from Grey's Anatomy, and I think there's one in there from Gilmore Girls.

xXxXx

_Your life is a book;_

_Don't jump to the **end** _

_to see if it's w o r t h it._

_Just _enjoy_ life and _

_Make those pages filled with_

_Beautiful memories_

**Hidden Sorrows: Chapter Six**

Fresh starts; thanks to the calendar, they happen every day. It's a chance to put your past behind you and start over. It's always hard to resist the chance of a new beginning, and I was finding this to be very true as I walked outside against the crisp, cool wind to the address Blaise had given me so I could meet him for a much needed breakfast. I hadn't been eating properly for so long since the split that I welcomed this meal, though I felt it in my heart that Blaise was not the one I should've been dining with.

It was a wonderful day. The birds had snuck out of their nests early that morning and begun chirping so cheerfully, that if I hadn't know better, I would've thought spring had already arrived, though it was still late December. But though it seemed all signs from the view of my window were pointing towards starting fresh with my life, the temperatures outside proved this theory wrong. I had stepped outside only wearing a light overcoat that barely reached my knees, and had needed to place several warming charms on the cover up as I walked. I had woken up with a wonderful sense of hope towards the upcoming day, but next ironically ended up feeling quite dismal about it instead. I started my walk at a brisk pace, deciding that the sooner I got indoors, the sooner I could begin to become optimistic again.

I searched for several minutes before finally realizing with despair that I was hopelessly lost in a city that I didn't know my way around. Remembering that I'd lived there for more than five months, nearly half a year, I almost laughed at how pathetic my situation was. Looking around for the address once more, I finally resolved to stop and simply ask someone where this restaurant was. When it came to my knowledge of things, I was always stubborn, and much like the stereotype against men asking for directions, I hated to admit to someone, _anyone_, that I didn't have the answer to a question. It was then when I finally discovered that Blaise hadn't given me the name of where we were eating.

"That's because there's no restaurant in that area, only the most expensive flats you could imagine buying if you were the wealthiest bloke alive." A burly looking man told me with a chuckle. "Right, that's just around the corner and up a block."

I nodded, though I was no longer so sure of my nonchalantly planned breakfast with Blaise. If this wasn't a restaurant then what was it? Surely he wouldn't invite me to eat breakfast with him at his flat…right? That was too self-assured, even for Blaise and even if we were only friends. So I had known him vaguely at Hogwarts, what difference did that make? Shortly after the Romeo and Juliet incident, we hadn't spoken until barely three days ago and not again after that. It would've been ludicrous for him to be so bold this early in our friendship, or whatever it was that we had would be called.

I continued telling myself this until finally I had arrived at the elegantly written street name. My steps faltered as I gazed amazedly at the luxurious flats surrounding me. All the outsides were made of the most beautiful brick I had ever seen, each charmed to move in random, sporadic patterns as I walked by them. The doors were all chestnut wood, with shining surfaces, and the windows all expertly clean, more so than my own, which I made sure to clean every other day in my spare time. Good Lord, it even smelled rich.

With my small black heels clicking softly on the cement steps that led up to Blaise's building, I showed the slip of paper he'd owled me to the doorman and after kindly being told that I was expected, the short, stout man suited in traditional silver and green colors led to me to an expensive, golden elevator shaft that took me to the top floor. Now I had absolutely no doubts about where I was eating breakfast. The elevator gave a small 'bing' as the doors slid opened without a sound. I struggled to keep my jaw intact as I walked into what could only be Blaise's flat. It was casual, yet carried an air of understated opulence.

The floors were all granite marble, and the walls all of the purest white plaster. Each piece of furniture looked like it cost more than my own flat, but at the same time, looked considerably used, as if each one had been bought for a specific purpose that was served everyday. The strong aroma of crisping bacon led me to the kitchen with my mouth watering. I found it to be breathtakingly furnished in it's fortuitous charm just like the rest of the flat. It was there I found Blaise, wearing a Slytherin-green apron (which could only be expected from the former Hogwarts student) and cooking some fresh sausages. My stomach growled in earnest expectancy. Hearing my light steps, he turned and sent me a warm smile.

"Morning," He said cheerfully as he began setting the food already cooked on a small, circular table standing by the window. I started to move to help him when he stopped me and instead pulled out a chair for me to sit in. "If you sit there, you can see just about all there is to see in the city." He was right. I sat in wonder, gazing out the window at the enchanting view of the city in the early morning light.

"I didn't know how you liked your eggs, so I made some in every kind I could remember. It's been a while since I've cooked anything. Four years to be more precise, so forgive me if it all tastes horrid and for my sake pretend it's the most delectable meal you've ever had the honor to eat." He said teasingly as he finished placing the silver, chrome plates on the table and took a seat across from me. I gave him a half smile and thanked him, and watched from the corner of my eye as he smiled when I picked the scrambled eggs and began loading my plate with the other savory foods he'd prepared.

"I propose a toast," he offered casually, picking up his glass of orange juice as I frowned. This was becoming too alluring all too fast. I wasn't going to drink to _anything_ he toasted. Nonetheless, I picked up my glass hesitantly, my politeness suddenly choosing this moment to kick in.

"Here's to you." He said with a smirk, knowing that this was a wise toast. Well, if he was going to put it that way, I'd drink to it, just this once of course.

xXxXx

Ron's footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors, back and forth, back and forth, as he paced resolutely, every now and then tossing an expectant look at Harry, who had yet to reply to his suggestion.

"Have you even talked to Lavender about this yet?"

"Answer my question first." Ron said determinedly as he continued pacing. Harry worried he'd wear a hole in the wooden boards.

"Well what do you expect me to say? You can't just go gallivanting about the city looking for Hermione. You won't find her that way." Harry said exasperatedly, eyeing Ron's feet with apprehension.

"I'll do as I please," The redheaded friend returned indignantly, but then softened. "I've looked everywhere, mate. Our-er I mean her flat, here, the Burrow, all the cafés, the office, Merlin I even stooped low enough to ask Malfoy if he had any idea where she was, then back here again just in case. I'm near going bonkers at this point, and I've come to the conclusion that 'gallivanting about the city' is probably the only way I'll find the woman." He took a deep breath.

"And yes, I have talked to Lavender. She didn't get it, kept saying it didn't make sense, but then again, she never was extremely bright. Hermione on the other hand…" Ron rolled his eyes as Harry gave him a 'and-you're-just-figuring-this-out look,' before continuing. "Right, anyway, I ended up having to just shout at her that I still in love with my old girlfriend, and then she had the audacity to _laugh at me_ and say, 'Well why didn't you tell me that from the start?' I lost it then and had to leave, but thinking about it now, I could just lose it again. Don't know what I saw in the selfish bint anyway."

Harry laughed and then sighed as he looked thoughtfully into his lemon tea, while Ron refilled his own cup. Suddenly a thought struck him.

"Maybe Ginny knows where she is. Hold on, let me floo her, I think her and Colin are 'catching up,' as she put it." Harry said excitedly and hurried over to the fireplace as Ron too began to cheer up.

"You're not worried about him and Ginny spending time together?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Ron, the bloke's a little too jovial for me to become too worried. Let's just say he doesn't enjoy the finer attributes in a woman like you and I do." Harry said pausing in his antics only a moment as he threw Ron a smirk. Throwing in a handful of floo powder, he hurriedly called for Colin's flat, where Ginny was visiting. The sound of laughter attracted Harry's attention to the couch just to the left of the fireplace, and his eyes landed on Ginny as she and Colin munched on crumpets while they talked.

"Gin," Harry called ardently. She looked over at him with a surprised expression and then smiled as she stood from the Gryffindor red couch and came over to sit in front of him.

"Everything alright, love?" She asked in a concerned tone.

"Fine, only Ron's this close to physically combusting unless he finds Hermione soon." Harry said in a rush using his fingers to indicate just how close as Ginny rolled her eyes.

"_Now_ he wants to know where she is. I assume he read the article from this morning then?" She asked. Harry nodded in response as Ginny smiled. "Right, I think she mentioned something about meeting Blaise for breakfast then. I've no idea where though."

"Thanks Gin, tell Colin I said hello," Harry said before retracting his body quickly from the fireplace. He turned around to find Ron still pacing. He looked somberly at his best friend.

Ron stared. "Well," he prompted.

"She's eating breakfast somewhere with Zambini." Harry mumbled.

"Why the bloody hell is she eating breakfast with _him_? You told me she wasn't in love with him and that it was all just a pretense to make me jealous." Ron finally grounded out after a moment of intense silence.

"I don't know," Harry said miserably, covering his face with his hands in despair. Ron rolled his eyes and threw a couch pillow at Harry.

"Thanks, that helps a lot. Glad I came to you for help and not Ginny, seeing as she's the only one who's really helped me thus far." He said as he continued his pacing while Harry picked up the pillow and sat tiredly in the black leather couch.

"Alright then, why don't you give this a shot? Close your eyes and think only of where she is, then try to Apparate." Harry suggested sarcastically, still stung at Ron's comment.

"That actually might work." Ron said thoughtfully. Harry chuckled disbelievingly but watched carefully as Ron stopped his pacing, stood up straight, clenched his fists into balls and tightly closed his eyes.

"Relax your stance Ron, if you're too emotional during Appartation, you'll be sure to splinch yourself." Harry advised, rubbing his temples and closing his own eyes. A few moments later, a loud pop echoed throughout the flat as Ron disappeared. Harry jumped to his feet and circled the room a few times, not really believing that it had actually worked. With excitement rushing throughout his body, he bolted over to the floo, calling for Colin's again.

"He's done it, Gin!"

xXxXx

"Is there something wrong with the food?" Blaise asked quietly to my surprise. The food he'd so carefully prepared was in fact delicious, almost as good as Ginny's even. I shook my head and commented that I loved it and wasn't pretending, and then asked him if I looked like I wasn't enjoying it.

"Well you haven't smiled once the whole time you've been here." He trailed off as I frowned again. People are always telling me to smile, like smiling is going to make all the pain away. Well, I've tried that. I've tried covering up my pain with 'fakeness,' and I've learned that when it hurts this much inside your heart, it always has a way of showing through no matter how many masks you wear. Blaise couldn't seem to grasp this though. He'd never been in love, and lost that love, and until he had, he would never fully comprehend my feelings.

I was fighting a battle that he didn't understand.

"You've probably heard this before," he started softly, slowly standing and walking around the table, kneeling down until he was eye level with me. "But there's a saying that the barriers we build to keep out pain keep out joy as well." I looked hastily at my plate and blinked my eyes. I knew this to be true, but I didn't want to come to terms with it. If I stopped my mourning and for once actually had a good time, I felt like that meant that I would move on all the more quickly. Just for a little while longer, I wanted to remember all that once was and take delight in the memories more than the reality.

"Come now, I'm trying to cheer you up. At least try to enjoy yourself, and if you can't do that, then I guess I'll have to settle with you enjoying the food, I had Ginny give me some key tips, so I know it can't be horrible." He said teasingly. Shaking my head, I chose not to answer but instead looked out the window. I leaned forward in my seat as I spotted a man who had just Apparated onto the street corner, pretending to watch him as I waited for Blaise to say something.

"Look, Hermione, I like you, a lot. In fact I've liked you since third year, but I never had the stones to say anything about it…until now. I know I should move on, because with you it's obvious that I'm only hurting myself and it's always going to be an uphill battle, but I just had to tell you in person. And I've got this tiny ray of hope that maybe you feel the same way." He said as I looked up into his dark eyes, admiring the crystal blue spark in the center of them. Before I could answer him, he stopped me.

"I don't want you to try to tell me in words how you feel." I looked at him with a confused expression. "I want you to kiss me," he said softly as he leaned in closer. "Just one real kiss, Hermione, and I'll know whether your feelings are the same as mine. It's a win-win situation for both of us. You'll have me out of your hair if the kiss doesn't go well, or you'll have my love for you." Lulled by the soothing tone of his voice, I allowed him to lean in further and closed my eyes, awaiting his kiss with a sense of being stuck in the unknown.

xXxXx

Ron left Harry's flat only to arrive at an unfamiliar and expensive looking street corner. He felt no closer to finding Hermione than he had been when he'd asked Malfoy, who had wasted no time in throwing him out of the building just as soon as he could get the words, 'No and I don't care, Weasel,' out of his smirking mouth. The old Slytherin had seemed more vindictive than usual about the subject, though Ron hadn't the faintest idea why.

Looking around in a bewildered state of mind, he took in the moving bricks on the buildings without a second thought, only trying to figure out why Hermione would be here of all places. It wasn't her style, or at least it hadn't been when they had been together. 'Leave it to a Slytherin to completely change her,' he thought to himself. Now all he had to do was figure out which building she was in, then which floor, and then how to convince her that Blaise wasn't the one for her, and that the right person for her was him.

This quest could prove to be a problem to even start, however, as there were at least twelve buildings, evenly distributed on the separate sides of the street, and each one had six or seven floors. Deciding that the best option would be to start at the beginning, Ron walked into the lobby of the first building and asked the doorman if he'd seen a girl with the description of Hermione. Although the doorman said no, a burly looking man passing by said he'd given a girl of that appearance directions to the building next door hardly twenty minutes before.

With the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Ron pushed himself out of the first building and ran with surprising speed to the second. Once again stopping to ask the doorman if he'd seen Hermione, he surmised that taking the elevator would take too much time and, after double-checking that it was doable, Apparated directly into Blaise's apartment, entering a scene that he was all too happy to interrupt.

xXxXx

Blaise got so close to me that I could smell the orange juice on his breath as his nose touched mine. We were just about to kiss when a loud crack of someone Apparating stopped us. I jumped back from Blaise with a yelp, feeling like I'd just been caught with my hand in the cookie jar as my eyes landed on the out of breath redheaded man that I was so smitten over. Blaise too jumped, but with his wand in hand, and as he spotted Ron, his eyes narrowed angrily.

"You've got no right to be here, Weasley." He said calmly, though his shaking hand indicated his fury. Ron, always quick to be on the defensive side, also whipped out his own wand and pointed it at Blaise.

"What's it to you, Zambini?" He growled with much less control on his emotions than Blaise, though his effort was noticeable. I sat speechless, not knowing what to do in the situation except watch with an open mouth and wide, gawking eyes.

"It's everything to me." Blaise quipped firmly, and my eyes flicked over to Ron to check his reaction. Ron's face began to turn a telltale red and I began to grow worried as I realized that this fight might not end all too prettily.

"Since when do you give a damn about Hermione? I know you two were never really together, Harry told me everything. You're not in love with her, but I am." Ron shouted back. Well, this was news to me, what happened to Lavender.

"That's rich! What was all that with Lavender, then?" Blaise retorted right back, voicing my thoughts in an eerie similarity. Ron opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering.

"If I say I'm in love with someone, then I mean it. Hermione broke my heart when she ended things between us," I winced painfully and quickly averted my eyes as he looked at me. "I was rash in my actions and assumed that the only way to fix a broken heart would be to replace the person that broke it. Turns out love doesn't quite work that way." Here I looked up at him hopefully at the soft tone in his voice and found him still looking at me. Our eyes met and the feeling inside me was almost more than I could take.

"And that makes it fair to keep her suffering because of her 'mistake' for over a month?" Blaise shot back heatedly. "I don't have to know her that well to know that she's most likely spent every single one of those nights crying herself to sleep." My face flushed, but Blaise was correct in his assumptions and I felt my eyes tear up as the regret in Ron's face became more evident. All those nights, I could never cry hard enough for him to hear me. Ron turned towards me with a desperate expression.

"Look Hermione, I know I messed up. Please, I want to fix it, just tell me how to fix it." He said, his voice cracking. I let a few tears slip, before hastily wiping them away. I could fill a thousand pages telling him how I felt and he still wouldn't understand so instead of answering, I shook my head. Now even Blaise looked shocked as Ron looked at me incredulously. Blaise commented that he would leave us alone a minute and walked awkwardly back into the kitchen.

"I can't win with you, Hermione. Can't you just talk to me?" He said wearily, putting his wand back in his cloak and kneeling down in front of me as Blaise had done shortly before. Couldn't he see that it wasn't always about winning? Couldn't he understand that talking to him hurt me, it _really_ hurt me, and that trying to talk to him right then felt like I was literally dying? I stood from the chair and did the only thing I was good at when it came to problems; I ran. I made it all the way outside onto the quaint streets before I promptly broke down and collapsed against the brick wall. Sitting alone, crying, in the cold weather gave me time to think things through, but after a couple of minutes, I started to get the feeling that no matter what I did now, it would be too late.

Ron appeared shortly after, panting as he came and sat down next to me. I looked at him questioningly and hastily wiped the tears from my burning face. He said that it'd taken him all that time to convince Blaise to let him go after me. Typical Blaise, he was always protective of me.

"Your article, Mione, it said '_life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets._' You can't honestly tell me you won't regret forever ending…us." Ron whispered disbelievingly. It was so hard for me to put it into words, but somehow I eventually got it out to him. I hated knowing that even if it was for one moment, that one moment he'd picked _her_ over _me_. I reminded him of all the opportunities he had to just tell me how he really felt, or to show me any feeling at all. For one month and seven days, I'd questioned that he'd ever loved me from the start.

"I _never _stopped loving you, you've got to believe that," he ground out with emotion. "I just stopped letting it show whenever I saw you. I assumed that would be the easiest way to get over you." I nodded in response and said that this had passed my mind numerous times as well, so it was understandable that he'd done this. I mean, I'd practically done the exact same thing with Blaise, and if Ron hadn't interrupted us…I've always loved his horrible timing. Standing up, he turned and offered me a hand, helping me up. I looked up at the sky as I we stood in silence and noticed how low they hung over the city, and how dark they were.

Ron caught my eye just then and I offered him a small smile. As soon as I was sure he had smiled back at me, I immediately began pouring out an apology for ever ending what we had. I promised I would take all the blame for everything, because to me, it made perfect sense that I should do so. Ron just laughed and shook his head, reaching over and brushing away the tears still on my cheeks with his thumb.

My heart sped up when his fingers brushed my skin, and my stomach fluttered as he slowly brought his face closer to my own. He was going at an agonizing pace, but when our lips finally met, it was well worth the wait. One month and seven days of emotion went into that kiss, and when we added that with the passion from all the other years we'd been in love with each other, the kiss was enough to knock me off my feet. Luckily, Ron felt this too, as he pushed me gently against the brick wall that would support both of us. We separated, very much out of breath, but kissing Ron was like breathing air, I couldn't get enough of it. So I reached out, grabbed his red locks with trembling hands, and hurriedly brought him back into the kiss. He had no objections though, and placed his hands on my cheeks, drawing me, if possible, even closer to him.

"You and I never had it easy, Hermione. We've always had to work hard for this to work, and every time it feels like we're going to make it, that's when everything falls apart. But I'm willing to take my chances with you." Ron whispered, his lips brushing against my forehead as he placed a light kiss there. My heart was filled with warmth and gratitude for Ron.

We paused then as we both felt something light, but wet, hit our noses. Looking up, we saw the sky quickly fill up with falling snow flakes. I let out a shaky breath, watching as it came out like a small mist, before slowly spreading out and disappearing in the air.

"Let's go home, back to _our_ flat." Ron suggested with a determined look. I gave him a big grin and timidly offered him my hand. He took it without hesitation and we began the trek home, knowing that even if we got lost, at least we'd still have each other to make it through. The whole walk home, it was like walking on diamonds sparkling in the still falling crystal flakes. It was truly the most romantic moment of my life.

Sure we each had to suffer a little bit to get there, but love and suffering always go together. As they say, '_True love is verified in the moments of trial and suffering._' The truth is, we all hide so that we can one day be found. We walk away to see who will follow, cry to see who will wipe away our tears, and we let our hearts get broken to see who will come and fix them.

Who gets to determine when the old ends and the new begins? It's not a day on the calendar, not a birthday, not a holiday, not a new year. It's an event, big or small. It's something that changes us and, ideally, it gives us hope. Hope for a new way of living and looking at the world, for letting go of old habits and old memories. What's important is that we never stop believing that we _can_ have a new beginning. But it's also important to remember that amid all the bad things in our lives, there are a few things really worth holding onto.

xXxXx

A/N: I hope you've all enjoyed this story. I think it ended on a good note and turned out different than even I had expected to go. I can't thank the reviewers enough for always reading and letting me know what they thought. I didn't like all the reviews, but they did _all_ help me write this story without totally screwing it up. Thanks everyone!

**Cucu4cocopuffs**, **illusion100**, **jaydedangel73**, **Weasel Princess**, **Gag Hafrunt **(helped spot some major errors!), **Sugarquill824**, **Pink Luvin Goddess**, **Wilty**, **Natalie**, **paulalou**, **Sleepyhead22**, **Jade Summers**, **kArlITaLUna**,** Insane Monkey Pirate**,** Chow**,** Magster**,** .spitxfire.**, and **jaricelle36 – **thanks soo much for all your encouragement and corrections to this story, I couldn't have done it without you!

Even though the story's finished, I would still love to hear what you thought about the ending, so please review, and if you're looking for me to respond and you're an anonymous reviewer, make sure there's a way I can send you an e-mail otherwise it's a little impossible.

Sunflour


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